


Looking into the Sun

by CynthiaER



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Banuk - Freeform, F/F, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Machine Empathy, Miscarriage, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-10-08 03:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 48,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynthiaER/pseuds/CynthiaER
Summary: The story of Teresa Lairde, a herbalist from Meridian Village who meets the legendary warrior Aloy of the Nora.  Despite her better judgement, Teresa lets her curiousity and attraction for Aloy lead her deeper into the dangerous outside world.  Little does she know what consequences her romantic interest will trigger.  Slow burn F/F.  Original character.





	1. The End of Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank ChristopherOdd's Horizon Zero Dawn Let's Play. Without it, I wouldn't know that this amazing game exists.
> 
> It's been wonderful to see the fanfiction beginning to flood in for HZD so I wanted to provide my own small contribution. I wasn't a huge fan of any of the potential in-game character pairings so decided to experiment with an original character one. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I've created a Fanpop group for this fantastic game at this url: http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/horizon-zero-dawn

Days that change a person's life start out ordinary. You crawl out of bed, wishing you didn't have to, and perform the same rituals that have started your day since you mastered independence. For me, that involves straightening the bed I share with my elder sister, tidying my appearance and eating a bowl of porridge with my mother, father, sister and younger brother. 

Like most residences in the shanty village outside Meridian, our abode is more a permanent collection of metal sheets than a solid dwelling. Besides the central 'kitchen' and my sleeping quarters there is only one other room which my parents share with my brother. The central room is also our storage area where dozens of herbs hang suspended by string from the ceiling.

Once fed, those manning the market stall gather what herbs they'll need in a cart and wheel it to the venue. The rest leave the populated area to scavenge herbs in the wilds beyond. Today I'm performing the former task with my sister. We finish setting up as the Sun's first light touches the central spire of Holy Meridian. Although it will be several hours before the market is bustling with people it's important to arrive early to prevent some up and coming seller of wares from taking your spot.

Foraging for herbs is a job that requires stealth and silence, but in the busy market I often hum or sing as I move among the scents. Such a rich combination of sweet, spicy and pungent fragrances can cause headaches in those unused to exposure. At seventeen I have had many years to build-up a tolerance. Still, when given a choice between the dangerous tranquility of the machine-invested hills and the noisy safety of Meridian, I always choose the tranquility.

Ambeth, my elder sister, leaves me to watch the stall while she visits with a friend in the tailoring section several blocks over. Not many people are interested in herbs today, most passing me by without a second glance. I don't mind, occupying myself with organising the bundles above my head and diminishing the cacophony of noises by singing a soothing tune. I'm lost in the mindless task of sorting and the song's haunting influence when a woman's foreign accent interrupts my simple world.

“That's a lovely song.” The voice is low and confident.

I turn, tucking a strand of dark hair under my red bandana, preparing to greet the customer with a casual introduction. Then I see her and my tongue goes dead in my mouth. The stranger is more foreign than I'd expected. I've seen a myriad of people from the Banuk, Oseram and Carja tribes as well as some from the fringes who've established their own cultures. I've even seen a couple of Nora since the Great Battle, although they do not seem to enjoy the heavily populated metropolis.

The woman on the other side of my herb display is like no one I've ever seen before. Her red hair distinguishes her immediately. Few people have such a pure amber colour. The hair's frizzy nature is contained by elaborate braiding, an occasional feather and coloured string accenting the ensemble. Her underlying complexion is pale, even compared to the Banuk, yet sun exposure has added a bronze hue. Freckles are sprinkled over her nose and cheeks. The woman's eyes are light brown, almost golden, thin eyebrows emphasizing their depth. Her mouth and nose are small yet perfectly shaped.

She's wearing a collection of animal hides and armour. The hide is finely crafted with decorative dyes while the armour appears to have been scrounged from Old One ruins. Unlike the Carja who make liberal use of elaborate accessories, the stranger is not heavily adorned with baubles. Two sets of beads and a bright blue scarf encircle her neck. There's also a small metal object on her right ear, the finishing touch in a very unique look.

Although I've never seen anyone like her before her station and responsibilities are obvious. A quiver of arrows rests on her right hip, a bow secured snugly to her back. I can see a variety of other weapons as well, including a spear, but cannot deduce what all of them are from my position. What I can see shows expert craftsmanship, the multitude of objects alone evidence that this woman has earned many accolades and much wealth.

All of this information is gleaned in seconds by my perceptive eyes. It would be enough to have me treating this warrior with heightened respect. Add on the fact that my blood is suddenly pounding in my ears and I know I'm going to make a fool of myself.

“Oh, uh.... th...thank you,” I can't meet her eyes but also can't look away.

The woman is likely in her mid-twenties but the confidence with which she carries herself makes her seem older. “What is it?” She asks, her voice softening. There's a certain gruffness in her accent but it's got a lilting quality that soothes the sound.

“The s..song?” I clarify, wiping sweaty palms on my dirty smock. Of course I'd be wearing the one that hasn't been washed for three days. Surreptitiously, I twist my body so that the worst stains are facing away from her.

She nods, a comforting smile on her thin lips. It's the type of expression one might wear to soothe a frightened child. Normally I might take offense, right now all I care about is that she's looking at me.

“It... it's called 'Hymn of the Highlands.' It... it's a Banuk lullaby,” I reply. My face is flushed and my heart has not slowed even a little. I want to move closer to her yet am afraid to do so. She's so different from me but that doesn't stop the attraction.

She nods again then asks, “Do you have any Twilight Nightshade?”

For any other customer the question would be completely understandable – I am a herbalist after all – but my brain does not immediately adjust to the change in subject. “Twilight...nightshade?” I reiterate, gaze darting up to meet hers. That is a mistake since I nearly stop breathing, so entranced am I by their golden depths.

“Yes, the herb.” She says kindly, the paraphernalia of her outfit jostling as her body shifts.

Forcibly pulling back into myself, I nod and move farther into the stall to collect the rare herb. Because of its specific growing conditions the plant is difficult to come by and, therefore, very expensive. I feel guilty as I tell her the price for a pouch. The shards it's worth would feed my family for a month. She doesn't even try to barter, pulling out the stipulated amount as if she spends such values everyday. 

_She probably does,_ I admit to myself as I stuff a pouch with her purchase. I add a bit more than I generally would, not dwelling on why. Settling can occur during transport I rationalise, giving her a bit extra is only fair.

“Thank you,” she says. The woman deftly takes her purchase from my hands, tucking it into one of several satchels on her belt.

“May the Sun shine on your hunt,” I recite. There's so much I want to say but can't seem to grasp anything except the traditional Carja hunter's blessing.

She smiles at me one final time, her attention already somewhere else. Mine follows her to the metal merchant a couple of stalls down where she sells some machine parts then until she disappears into the crowds. I don't even have a second to gather my thoughts once she's out of sight because my sister appears as soon as the stranger's vanished.

“Oh great Blazes Teresa is it true?! Was she here?” Ambeth exclaims between panting breaths. She must have rushed back here.

My own breathing is still elevated but the world around me is beginning to seem normal again. “What do you mean?” I ask dumbly.

“Don't tell me you didn't... did she buy something? What was it?”

I'm used to answering my elder sister so the words come of their own accord. “Twilight Nightshade.”

“That's an odd purchase, although not for her I suppose. She's in enough plots to warrant... Teresa, you didn't charge her for it, did you?”

“Oh, well... I-.”

“You did!” Ambeth's already found the shards. It's not hard to see that our stash has increased significantly. “I can't believe you did that! She's a hero! She saved Meridian – twice!”

“She... wait,” my mind has finally started piecing everything together. Although the woman's appearance had been unique in many respects the outfit had been similar to Nora ones I've seen. Since not many Nora frequent Meridian I immediately think of the one Nora woman everyone has heard of. Few have seen her but everyone knows of her accomplishments and her exotic beauty is an important part of recounting the warrior's exploits. When I realise that, yes, the physical attributes I'd catalogued match the stories I almost faint.

Aloy, Thrush of Sunhawk Talanha, Protector of Sun King Avad and Meridian, Mistress of Machines, Seeker for the Nora... she came to my family's stall! Purchased Twilight Nightshade from me... from me. Somehow I lower myself to the floor, ignore the ranting from my sister and take deep, steadying breaths. If I'd known who she was I never would have charged her. No wonder she possessed so much fine equipment and an abundance of shards. She's a legend – the greatest warrior of our time. And I made a fool of myself in front of her.

The rest of the day passes in a blur as business continues and I mull over the details of my encounter with Aloy. During the event I hadn't noticed how many people's attentions had been focused on my customer because my own had been taken hostage by her presence. When I'm tucked into bed that night one thought has reigned supreme: I hadn't known who Aloy was during our interaction yet I'd still been deeply affected by her. If I'd known who she was I could have written my reaction off as hero worship. I would have shared Ambeth's desire to gossip about the meeting and revel in my good fortune. Instead, all I want is for everyone to forget it had ever happened.

I hadn't known who she was... so my reaction to her had been completely natural. Oh, there'd been the awe of a person who possessed wealth and status, but there'd been simple, raw attraction too. It was that attraction that had me thinking about nothing except Aloy for the following week. That attraction led me to pursue every rumour of her whereabouts in the guise of errands. It also kept me from advertising what I was doing, although I probably didn't fool Ambeth.

I only caught sight of Aloy once more despite my stalking attempts. She exited a tavern and walked the half mile to the edge of Meridian's defenses. Once outside the flickering torchlight she let out a high-pitched whistle and out of the darkness bounded two blue points of light.

_A Broadhead machine,_ I acknowledged. Crouched behind a stack of crates, I watched the famous warrior jump astride her mount and gallop into the night. If I'd had any sense I would have counted my blessings for the opportunity to see her then gone about my routine existence. Instead, I packed a supply bag and told my family I was going on a several day excursion to collect herbs. That's how the youth of Teresa Lairde ended.


	2. The Outside World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where several battles occur and Erend makes a brief appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented and added 'kudos' to this story. I hope you all enjoy the tale I'm crafting.

I fully expected that following the trail of a seasoned warrior and legendary explorer would take me farther than my usual foraging grounds. I am, therefore, surprised when I find myself at small outpost just over a day's walk from Meridian. I'm pleased about this since my determination to learn more about Aloy, woman of many accolades, does not diminish my fear of being far from familiar territory. I've snuck past herds of machines to reach here, my plain tunic and dark hair helping me blend into the surrounding landscape.

Like many other Carja women I keep my hair short. It's easier to manage, especially out in the wilds. I've packed heavier than usual for this journey with two large satchels on my belt and a sack over my shoulders. The sack contains food, water and an extra set of clothes. Each satchel is made up of several pouches for herbs. I keep some standard healing varieties in the pockets of my garments, but less than most travelers. After all, I can easily stock-up while on the move.

Also on the belt are my ropecaster, sling, bow and quiver of arrows. I'm a fair shot, but not nearly good enough to take out a fast moving machine. Game are my usual prey. The sling is used to draw machines away from valuable resources. Should I be spotted, quick shots from the ropecaster ensure I have a chance to escape to safety. I've used none of this equipment by the time I reach the outpost, which looks to be a reclaimed bandit camp.

Darkness is settling over the land when I decide to gather a few more herbs before entering the settlement. A traveling herbalist arriving without an expansive stock would be suspicious. I also want to gauge the atmosphere of this place before exposing myself to whatever ruffians it may house. I set myself up for the night in a tall tree outside the main gates, content that I am safe and will be promptly informed of any noteworthy activity. I have barely closed my eyes among the sheltering boughs when the sounds of battle erupt below me.

Squinting through the leaves, I spot a couple of Sawtooths attacking the guards at the gate, their yowls and screeches making me tremble with fear. I've heard their monstrous roars and seen them from a distance, but never as close as they are now, barely twelve feet below me. Thankfully, the likelihood of them spotting me is slim. Unfortunately, the likelihood of them destroying the tree I'm currently hiding in is very high.

“Hey!” A voice cries.

The mechanical beasts turn toward the west where a warrior is waving to get their attention. The flickering torchlight illuminates her enough that I recognise the woman.  
_Aloy._ Dread rises in my chest. _What's she doing?_ I ask myself. When I remember that she's a legendary machine-hunter who's faced far worse than these Sawtooths, my worry lessons only slightly.

Aloy is now firing arrows in rapid succession at the beasts, driving them into a frenzy. They leap in her direction even as one of them bursts into flames, the armour shattering off its companion's back. Despite its synthetic tissue now being exposed, the machine plows on toward the red-head. Suddenly, an explosion rips through the air and the beast crumples to the ground, sparking with electricity.

 _Traps. She's set traps on the path,_ I realise, awe rapidly overtaking my concern. The Sawtooth she set on fire is felled long before it reaches her, the second forcing her to roll away from a bold charge in its final moments.

It's taken her seconds to bring down the powerful machines, an accomplishment I've not seen matched by a single hunter facing a timid Grazer, let alone an apex fighting predator. Cheers erupt from those within the settlement, some rushing out to thank their saviour. Aloy calmly accepts their appreciation, methodically stripping the carcasses as they chatter around her.

My eyes follow the warrior and her entourage back through the outpost's gates until they're out of sight. Turning back, I gaze once more at the hunks of metal and wires, all that remains of the dreadful Sawtooths. I blink, then lower myself back onto the blanket I've spread across the branches. My brain is finally processing what my eyes saw, awe giving way to wonder.

Aloy'd held herself with an assurance that made slaying two Sawtooths look so easy. The sight was inspiring. It also left an unpleasant churning in my stomach. As I gaze up into the deep purple sky, I realise that part of me has been hoping the stories about this woman aren't true. If they'd been exaggerated then she'd still be reachable to someone like me. Now that I've witnessed one of her battles I can see that she's every bit as capable as her reputation claims. This makes it highly unlikely she'd ever be interested in someone as lowly as a poor herbalist.

 _Might as well get some sleep,_ I tell myself as the moon nears its zenith. _You can still bring back some shards for your family._

*

By late morning I've collected a good stock of herbs, tidied my appearance at a stream near the outpost and am approaching its entrance. My observations have shown this place to be fairly ordinary, hunters and merchants bustling about as they always do in Meridian. My mood has brightened with the day so that, even though I know my attraction to Aloy will probably end in heartache, I still find myself excited by the prospect of seeing her.

My anticipation of meeting her spontaneously in the street dissipates after I've spent nearly all of the remaining daylight bartering and trading my collected herbs. Although I mostly obtain shards, I also stock up on arrow-crafting supplies and wire for my caster. Twilight brings with it the realisation that I have to find a bed for the night and, since I'd like not to have another fitful sleep in a tree, decide to investigate renting a room in the tavern.

The early evening air is warm, but I pull my outer shawl tighter around my shoulders as I enter the small building. Like my family's home, this place feels transitory, as though its purpose has not been finalised. _If it remains the local meeting place some expansion will be necessary,_ I acknowledge.

Shouldering my way to a make-shift counter where a burly man is taking orders, I request information about the accommodations. What I learn leads me to decide against the place. The stew, however, smells delicious and is reasonably priced. I cast frequent glances at the people around me as I eat, the air thick with second hand smoke and ale. Although I'm seated against a wall farthest from the main walkway, I am jostled almost constantly, the urge to escape the confines making me twitch with every contact.

Soaking up the last of the liquid from my bowl with some hard bread, I flag the server and am reaching across to pay him when a man somewhere behind me bellows: “Best damn warrior – took out the Sawtooths like they was Grazers! Would 'ave lost me other arm if she hadn't shown up.”

Turning toward the voice, I see that other people have done the same. My slightly elevated position at the counter allows me to see to the back of the room and there, seated at a large table with several men of the Oseram Vanguard, is Aloy.

She is looking at the man who's drawn the crowd's attention to her with impatience, the common expression somehow more intimidating on her face. Both of her hands are clasped around a metal goblet, a fur coat thrown over her shoulders. Otherwise, her appearance is unchanged. Apparently she does not dress down in any setting.

My fixated gaze is torn from her when a man on her right leans over and places a hand on her shoulder, drawing the woman back into whatever conversation they'd been having before the interruption. Aloy's attention focuses on his words, not knowing or not caring that his hand is still holding her. The other Vanguard provide minimal input to the discussion, their actions suggesting subservience to the man possessively holding the warrior's shoulder.

The longer I watch the farther my mood falls. If that man is the leader then... could that be Erend, Captain of the Vanguard? Meeting in such a nondescript location would offer some anonymity for whatever mission they're on. As the esteemed Oseram Captain leans closer to Aloy of the Nora, my heart clenches painfully. It is obvious that these two have a history together. Their comfort with each other is palatable from across the room.

Before now the stories linking these two figures has not held personal significance for me. Now, there's no doubt in my mind how the Captain feels about the woman beside him and little reason to suspect Aloy does not return the affection.

I am out of the building and in the refreshing air outside the settlement before I've fully realised my intentions. My body is shaking unpleasantly. _What in the Blazes is wrong with me?_ I demand, moving farther into the field beyond the torchlight. _It's not as though I didn't expect this. She's a famous warrior, of course she'd have lovers._

Speculations about Aloy's romantic connections was common in Meridian, but I'd never taken interest in them before now. The rampant rumours and lack of confirmed fact suggest that Aloy has no established partner, but that's almost meaningless. She could have anyone she wanted.

 _It's a good thing I had my hopes dashed before I'd gotten any more infatuated,_ I tell myself, wiping the moisture from my cheeks. _I'm a little girl with nothing to offer a woman of such greatness._

I end up sleeping in the same tree from the night before, the exhaustion that follows my self-pitying tears prompting a deeper sleep than I'd expected. Although I'm determined to start toward home the next day, I linger in the area a few hours after Sunrise, gathering herbs and crafting a variety of arrows. By noon the outpost is nearly out of sight and my heart is finally silent.

The Sun hasn't gone another quarter in the sky when I spot a plump boar. Hungry for meat, I decide to hunt him. The only obstacle is a Watcher making circular patrols of the animal's grazing patch. Generally, I avoid conflict with machines whenever possible, but the high emotion from the past few days makes me crave the rush of a fight.

Crouched low in the tall grass, I wait until the Watcher is within comfortable casting distance then fire two ropes in rapid succession. The machine's single eye turns from bright yellow to angry red, a metallic screech issuing from its body as it struggles against the restraints pinning it to the ground. My shots are too well placed to allow it any range of movement but, given time, it will wriggle free.

Reaching into my quiver I pull forth an arrow, the bow already in my other hand. My heart is pounding hard, fear mixed with excitement making my blood run hot. Wasting no time, I notch the weapon, pull the string taught and take a couple of seconds to aim. When the arrow flies it lands directly inside the unnatural pupil.

Sparks fly from the broken machine, its form crumpling beneath my ropes. Standing, I stride confidently from the bushes and look down on my kill. _After that a boar will be easy,_ I tell myself, a smug smile on my face.

The scuffle has spooked nearby wildlife, but I catch up with the boar just over a ridge where its death comes swiftly. Dragging the body to a small rocky outcrop, I shed my outer shawl and begin gathering wood for a fire. The outcrop's structure provides protection on three sides and is concealed by large bushes, making it a relatively safe camping spot. I'm not expected to return home for several more days so can afford to take my time. I am in the middle of skinning dinner when an angry shriek breaks the peace around me.

Jumping to my feet, I grab the ropecaster. My quiver and bow are still strapped to my back, a fact I become enormously thankful for when a Ravager comes charging over the crest. _It must have found the Watcher corpse,_ I think, panic threatening to take control of my instincts. _You can't escape it, you're in the middle of a plain,_ I tell myself sternly. When it sees me the beast lets out a far louder battle cry.

“Stand and fight!” I say this out loud to bolster my nerves. I've never taken down such a dangerous machine, although they are relatively common. This fact does not make the ensuing confrontation any easier.

Taking off at a run, I put some distance between myself and the beast, taking a quick scan of the area to ensure I'm not going to draw any additional foes. The Ravager moves forward in quick turns rather than a straight charge, its fearsome growls deafening me.

 _Calm,_ I instruct my shaking limbs. Planting my feet, I take aim with the caster and send a rope in the machine's direction. The first and second shots miss, the Ravager's swift movements difficult to track.

 _It moves in patterns, use those against it._ Following my advice, the next couple of casts are in spots I anticipate the beast will be rather than its current position. The Ravager is less than ten feet from me when it lurches to the left, forced back by a rope binding its hind leg.

A wave of energy steadies my body and I send half a dozen more ropes at the Ravager. Four hold it sufficiently, but the beast's strength is greater than a Watcher's. I need to kill it before it breaks free. Taking aim with an arrow from my position, I try hitting its eyes. When those prove too challenging I aim for a canister on its belly. My ropes have pinned it at an angle which makes the shots easier to land. The machine is shrieking in fury as I pelt it with a variety of arrows, its limbs scrabbling desperately against the straining cords.

I take a step forward to get another shot. That's when my ropes give way under the pressure. Freedom makes the Ravager frantic to reach me, its large paws tearing up clods of soil as it leaps for my head. _I can't outrun it-,_ The thought dies as I calculate the arch of its jump. My feet begin to move toward rather than away from the Ravager. As its front claws are descending I drop onto my right leg, the momentum carrying me under the creature. I twist as I pass beneath its exposed belly, notch an arrow and plant it deep into the synthetic tissue.

Ignoring the burning in my leg, I plant my feet again and prepare to meet the machine's counter charge. Instead of a terrifying beast, I see a pile of sparking metal parts lying defeated in the grass. Shock keeps my emotions immobilised as I approach the Ravager, unable to believe it is actually down. Circling, I examine the machine with new interest, noting the fine structure and strong armour. Here is a creature that strikes fear into the hearts of tribes people, a threat in cautionary tales for children who wish to wander outside the city defenses. This one will terrorise no more... because of me.

A triumphant exclamation roars from me of its own volition. The accompanying pleasure and pride prompt me to place a foot on the corpse, extending my arms into the sky. “Praise the Sun for in its light my hunt was successful,” I say, stepping back and looking over the fallen machine again. _These parts can help upgrade some of our tools at home,_ I think, bending down to begin working my fingers into the dense wires. I am cataloguing the useful components when I become aware of something behind me.

Gripping my bow, I spin and lift an arrow. Thankfully, the rush from my first Ravager kill gives way to surprise, stopping any further aggressive motions. A warrior is walking toward me, their strides long and assured. I see a flash of red and then Aloy, Protector of the Sun's Own, is only a few paces from me. She is smiling, but it is not like the smiles she's previously given me. This is a smile of respect.

“Well,” she says in her gruff, lilting accent. “It looks like your hands know how to fight and gather.”

Suddenly nervous and unreasonably happy that she's remembered me, I stash my weapons and smile shyly back. “I... I didn't know I could.”

She laughs, the sound strong and friendly. “Neither did I, until I did it.” A brief moment of silence passes before she states, “I heard fighting so wanted to ensure no one was in danger.”

“Thank you,” I respond, trying to think of a way to keep her here now that I, by the Sun's blessing, have this woman's full attention. “I've got a boar at my campsite, care to join me?” I'm not sure if my voice embodies the confidence I'm going for. With my luck it will sound more like a plea.

Aloy considers the offer, her face turning serious then resuming its friendliness. “Alright, it's been a while since I've had fresh boar.”

Nodding, and trying not to look too excited, I lead Aloy back toward the outcrop, a million emotions fighting for purchase in my chest.


	3. A Step Beyond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa learns more about Aloy and is introduced to a mechanical companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OCs can be a challenge to portray realistically so I hope that Teresa's flaws and strengths are clearly developed in this narrative. Aloy does not easily give up her thoughts so our protagonist has to make a lot of assumptions, some of which will be false and a result of her own desires. I appreciate all constructive criticism and hope that this tale offers something interesting to the HZD fandom.

Gutting boar for one's supper is a vastly different affair when done in the presence of a living legend. My only consolation is that the red-head tinkering with her weapons is no stranger to such gore. Everyone from humble beginnings has experience with the messy task and Aloy's deprived upbringing is one of the most intriguing aspects of her story. I am, however, thankful when the chore is complete so I can clean the blood from my hands and clothes.

Upon returning to the fire I see that Aloy has gathered fresh wild greens for a salad, tree nuts nestled among the tender leaves. One of her strong hands holds out a bowl in my direction.

“Thank you, these look lovely,” I say, daring to meet her eyes.

Aloy smiles but the expression seems somber, as though my arrival has interrupted contemplation of a serious nature. “I'm used to eating on the go,” she explains after a moment, friendliness warming her voice. 

Our introductions took place during the walk from my Ravager corpse to this site, Aloy's including a light-hearted jibe at her fame with the remark: “You probably already know who I am.” 

Sitting down on the ground a foot away from her, I eat a few leaves before looking up at her again. “Hey, uh, thank you for joining me. I'm sure you could find better food in more hospitable places.”

Straightening her legs, Aloy leans against the boulder at her back. The firelight is flickering cheerfully over her pretty face. I make a conscious effort to split my attention between the cooking boar and my companion.

“There's nowhere I'd rather be,” she replies after another extended pause, her gaze looking in the direction of the outpost we've left. “I prefer the wilds to settlements.”

Excitement jumps into my chest. Having something in common with Aloy means we have a conversation topic. A conversation topic means I might hold this woman's attention a little longer. “Me too. It's so noisy and crowded in Meridian. I mean, it's where I grew up so I'm used to it, but there's... well, it's so much nicer out here. Dangerous, but more... soulful.” I cut myself off, afraid I've begun rambling. 

Aloy's attention fixes on me more intently. “Soulful? That's an interesting description.”

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I peer into the fire, confident that its heat will hide my blush. “Yeah, the Carja don't generally attach religious significance to anything below the horizon. My father introduced the idea of nature and even machines as sacred. He's from the Banuk tribe. Neither of my parents are particularly devout so I guess that's how they get along.” When I steal a glance at Aloy I see that she's leaned forward. Apparently I've chosen a good conversation topic.

“Banuk and Carja? That's unusual. They would have met during the Reign of Sun King Jahadin then.” It's not really a question but I elaborate.

“Yes, my father and some friends from his tribe were wanderers. He says he's seen this whole side of the continent but I haven't heard a lot of those details. He met mother while she was gathering herbs with her brother in Meridian's foothills. Mother's brother whisked her away to 'protect her from the savages' but my parents had already established a mutual interest. 

They met in secret for several months then the war broke out. Father was injured in the early days which kept him out of the main fight. Most Banuk had no desire to involve themselves in the affair, despite the raids, but he had a stake in the Carja world. When the war ended and Sun King Avad welcomed all tribes to Meridian, he and mother married. We've been herbalists since.”

When I gazed at Aloy again she was lost in some sight beyond the present, her friendly interest replaced with an expression of sad longing. Its intensity urged me to breach the distance between us with a supportive touch but I was too embarrassed to follow through.

“That's beautiful,” she says at last, returning from her thoughts.

“I suppose,” I reply, unsure what to make of Aloy's reaction. “Not as interesting as your story.”

This is not the right thing to say. Aloy's manner immediately turns formal, face assuming a detached neutrality. Her words possess an air of rehearsal when she says, “I did what I had to do.”

“Is that still the case?” I'm not sure where the question comes from but I'm distressed by the way this woman has transformed from a person glowing with life and curiousity to one so reserved and almost robotic.

She doesn't look at me when she replies, “Yes, there's still much to do to protect this place.”

_Does she mean Meridian – or something bigger?_ I wonder. I have no chance to clarify since she's suddenly on her feet and gathering her supplies. “You don't want to have any boar?” I ask, desperation entering my voice.

“No, I'm sorry, I should be on my way. Thank you for your company.” She's now fully equipped, an intimidating vision.

“It was my pleasure.” I'm on my feet as well, itching to get closer while I still can.

Genuine warmth briefly returns to her expression. “Meridian is a little ways for you yet.”

The change of subject throws me off kilter. Still, I manage to nod, stating: “It's no trouble. I'm used to lengthy excursions.”

Her smile turns mischievous and my heart does a disturbing flutter. “It'd be much faster and safer if you had transportation.”

I'm about to reply that there are no caravans nearby for me to join then stop myself. I know she means something else. She's watching me closely, her smile both stunning and frustrating. Aloy is waiting to see if I'll catch on to what she means. _How does she travel?_ As my mind asks the question the answer surfaces.

“Oh,” I say out-loud, the sound mixed with wariness and intrigue. “I...you mean a machine?”

My tone erases the playfulness from her face, the neutral mask steadily taking its place.

 _She wants to share something with you,_ I tell myself. _Look happy about it!_

“Can I really... ride one?” I manage to work more enthusiasm into this response. It's not difficult, I just have to consciously shut off the voice lecturing me on how dangerous this is.

“Anyone could,” Aloy replies. Her posture and expression are still somewhat stilted but my reaction has prevented her from becoming completely disengaged. “I don't want to frighten you,” she says, one hand hovering halfway to her lips.

“The only way to get over fear is to face it,” I respond, wondering where that bit of wisdom came from.

I catch a glimpse of excitement in the warrior's eyes as she puts her hand to her mouth and emits a high-pitched whistle. Within seconds hoof-beats are thundering up the hillside, a Broadhead mounting the crest with powerful strides. As it nears the machine shifts from a gallop to a canter, the emotionless blue eyes bright as they take us in. Aloy immediately reaches out, placing one hand on the metal snout, then looking at me.

I have made myself remain still through sheer will power. Aloy's presence can only mitigate years of trained responses, not change them. Still, when the Broadhead makes no aggressive movements I take a deep breath and move forward. The creature shifts and I pause, glancing at Aloy for direction.

She smiles encouragingly and I move within arms reach, energy humming through my body. One hand reaches out almost of its own accord although it hesitates before actually touching the machine. When I make contact a buzz travels up my arm, my hair standing on end. The metal is surprisingly warm. I've only ever touched machine corpses and this feels nothing like those.

The Broadhead is very much alive, yet not in the same way I am. Even as I wonder at the experience I can tell it's not any smarter than a common animal, bound by predetermined responses. Perhaps when they don't want to kill you all machines are like this.

“This is incredible,” I whisper, so lost in the moment I don't notice Aloy's proximity until her shoulder brushes mine. When it does I blush, staring determinedly at the tame Broadhead.

“Not so much,” Aloy replies dismissively, one of her hands extending toward me. In her palm lies a small piece of metal.

“Is that?” I begin.

“A whistle,” she confirms, the excitement in her voice prompting me to meet her yes. Aloy's come alive again, the thrill of sharing her knowledge making her glow. “I found it in a ruin. It calls a tamed mount whenever I need one. It's frequency is tuned to theirs.”

“If only people were less afraid of the ruins,” I state, believing this is what she wants to hear. My belief is proved false when she averts her face but not before I've seen the retreat of her pleasure.

“Perhaps it's for the best that they are.” Aloy moves determinedly in the direction of the outpost, pausing only long enough to answer me when I hurriedly ask:

“Will it obey me? How long will it stay tamed? Do I free it once I arrive?”

“Yes. When you're riding turn its head in the direction you want to go and kick its sides to pick-up speed. It will remain tame until released. You release it by saying: 'Mission complete'. Keep it hidden from other machines. They will identify it as hostile.”

“Thank you!” I cry.

Aloy gives no indication she's heard as she breaks into a run and is quickly swallowed by the darkness.

_What a strange woman,_ I find myself thinking as I trail a cautious hand down the Broadhead's face. The machine makes a low 'huff' noise and shakes its head.

“It will take me a while to get used to you,” I tell it, letting my eyes linger on every feature of this fascinating creature. “We need to find you a safe place for the night.”

I keep a close watch on the Broadhead, not trusting it to remain docile without Aloy present. It does not appear to sense my suspicion but its responsiveness to spoken commands makes me wary of voicing my concerns. Having found the beast a secluded alcove I use one of my ropes to tether it, fully aware that it could escape if it tried to. The measure is both peace of mind for my own safety and its protection. Other machines are unlikely to see it unless they wander straight into the small grove.

Once I've eaten, I wrap and bury the remaining meat before settling into my sleeping roll. Although the only words I've said are directions to the Broadhead, my mind has been busy since Aloy's departure, analysing every moment of our time together.

I don't know what I expected about the warrior yet know that she's nothing like I'd imagined. Well, that's not entirely true. She's a confident and skilled fighter, intelligent and exotic. Those aspects are well-known. What impresses me most, however, is how grounded Aloy is. Someone in her position could easily feel entitled and above the problems of everyday people. Rather than letting the esteem swell her pride, she has retained an earthiness that values hard work and compassion. She fights for those in need, works to establish cooperation between the tribes, showed me only friendliness during our interactions... and yet.

This is what troubles me: Aloy, Thrush of Sunhawk Talanha, Protector of the Sun's Own and Meridian, Mistress of Machines, Seeker for the Nora is unhappy. Deeply unhappy. She did a poor job concealing it, but I suspect she's used to being alone in the wilds and, therefore, not having to hide her feelings here. I'd certainly never seen the polarising emotions when she was among others. Mine is not a strong presence, I've often been overlooked even in small gatherings, so perhaps this also contributed to her lapses of control.

_She wants to share her interest in machines,_ I say to myself, remembering how her eyes had lit up when I'd touched the Broadhead. _How my parents met fascinated her. Perhaps that's because she really has no place. Every tribe gives her a title but she belongs to none of them. She has no family, only fellow fighters for whom she's always been the saviour, never just a woman. She's always had to be strong._

Aloy's own words perfectly sum up my observations about her: she's done what she's had to do. _Is a sense of responsibility the only reason she performs the feats that have made her famous? If so, there may come a time when loneliness trumps that feeling of obligation._

The herb I sold her suddenly takes on a disturbing significance, my body going cold with the realisation. Twilight Nightshade in its diluted form works as an animal repellent. When concentrated it is a deadly poison without odour or taste. Its price means it's generally not used for the former purpose.

Ambeth suspected Aloy needed it for some plot she's part of, which is possible, but I can't help fearing some other outcome. In the highly populated Meridian I've been exposed to people driven so low they felt there was nothing left to live for, worn down by loss and hopelessness. While I have trouble truly believing Aloy would become so desperate, the truth is I have no idea the pressures she's under and how much, if any, emotional support she's receiving. Consciously, the thought of using Twilight Nightshade on herself may have never occurred but its presence will always be a way out. If she ever perceives herself as a threat to whatever goals drive her, Aloy might even consider such action for the greater good – the actions of a martyr.

I do not sleep well as half my awareness remains on the tame Broadhead and the other is preoccupied with these thoughts. Like a naive child I'd followed Aloy, eager to see the hunter in action and bask in her presence. Now I feel trapped, unable to shake the impressions that she and the others claiming to protect my world may ultimately suffer for such dedication. Particularly her. My imagination is probably running away with me, but a stubborn part of me insists that I can't take that chance. If my suspicions are even a little correct I need to ensure someone is looking out for Aloy. Once I'm certain of that I can go back to whatever future is in store for me.

This determination carries me through the return journey to Meridian, clinging warily then eagerly to the back of a powerful machine that obeys my commands. A woman who gives this miraculous gift to a common herbalist is worth protecting.


	4. Chasing the Horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa pursues Aloy, discovering a fascination with machines along the way.

Telling my family I was striking out to become a traveling herbalist went as well as I expected. Mother put on her most disproving face and commanded me to forget such a ridiculous notion. 'The world is far too dangerous for a young woman without protection,' she said, 'your family needs you.' Father agreed with mother, crossing his arms and forbidding me from leaving the house without supervision. 

At first Ambeth lectured me, outlining the reasons why my notion was ill-fated. In addition to those listed by my parents, she added that following the Protector of the Sun's Own like a love-sick puppy would only lead to heartache. Despite these words, I could tell Ambeth was excited about my experiences. I shared everything except my suspicions about Aloy with her, even taking Ambeth to see the tame Broadhead hidden a mile outside Meridian's gates.

“Meridian is only as safe as the people in it. At least in the wilds machines are the main foe and they are predictable.” I tell her as we're returning from the site. I do not say that I have determined to stay home for only a couple of days, enjoying the familiarity before I leave, perhaps never to return. Out of necessity I can't tell my family when I'm leaving, but I've been honest with them. This is a journey I need to take.

Ambeth holds me close the night I leave, silent tears trailing down her face. I have not said tonight is my last at home yet she knows and will not stop me. This is how I discover I will miss my sister most of all. Once she's asleep I place a kiss on her forehead then obtain the small bag I've packed with clothes, basic tools, a flask of water and food. The two satchels on my belt are nearly empty. I take only a few healing herbs and a handful of shards. The rest can help support my family while they adjust.

It's been four days since I returned to Meridian, long enough for the initial flurry of my announcement to calm. Sneaking outside, I move through the still streets without any trouble. The Sun's younger brother is nearly full in the sky above me. As I approach what I'm beginning to consider 'my' Broadhead, I notice that the ground within its grazing range is different. 

I hadn't taken any interest in the spot beyond the fact that it's at the bottom of a small valley, well hidden by dense foliage and largely machine-free. It'd contained the standard plants as far as I can recall: thin, tough Hammer Stalk, spongy Muddy Feet and concealing Scratch Pine. Now, even in dim light, I can see that the Broadhead's activity has caused several additional plants to sprout. The machine has made shallow trenches and created soil basins around the seedlings, protecting them from nearby competition and encouraging the soil to remain damp.

This discovery shocks me so deeply I almost return to wake Ambeth and show her. Everyone has seen machines changing the land we inhabit but most view their actions as destructive, returning carefully cultivated fields back into wild spaces. I've never given the phenomenon much thought but now, faced with the implications of what one Broadhead has done in this space, I wonder if the machines are a positive force in the world.

They're certainly dangerous to people but, with the derangement fading, they generally do not bother anyone unless provoked. Perhaps Aloy's adventures have taught her more about their purpose which is why she shows such respect to the beasts, despite being a hunter. Even the Banuk, who pay deference to mechanical creatures, are not as comfortable in their presence as the warrior. Thoughts of catching up with the woman spur me into action. Carefully, I lead my mount out of the sheltered spot and turn its snout toward the west.

“We're going to find your Mistress,” I tell the Broadhead as I climb onto its back, the motion smoother than my initial attempts. “With any luck, we can provide some assistance to each other.” A strong kick to its sides sent the Broadhead forward, vast uninhabited plains and hills disappearing in the blink of an eye.

*

Upon returning to the outpost I learn that Aloy departed only a day after me, heading north. I try not to make my inquiries too obvious as I trail the warrior, gleaning most of my information from small talk with traders and villagers as I meander across the country. In truth, it is easy to follow such an esteemed person. Although she generally makes an effort to conceal her appearance, Aloy's tendency to assist those in need makes her whereabouts common knowledge.

One day melts into another as I travel, my Broadhead soon the sole companion with which I share daily toils. Despite my reservations about speaking plainly in its presence, the loneliness of travel encourages me to voice my introspections. A good portion of these soon became frustrated reactions related to how many machines we encounter.

As Aloy moves farther from highly populated areas fighting machines becomes a regular occurrence. Which machines I fight, however, is a decision I attempt to retain control over. Watchers are never a problem, I am well-practiced in dealing with them, but whenever Glinthawks circle I dismount and give the flying machines a wide berth. It takes a while to understand the patterns and weaknesses of Scrappers and Broadheads but neither are particularly fearsome. Thankfully, these are the most common machines I encounter, although the territory of day sixteen begins containing far too many Sawtooths and Ravagers for my comfort.

I have several close calls with my Broadhead. When a wild machine spots it they attack, as Aloy had warned. The ferocity with which my Broadhead fights back initially took me by surprise. I'd gotten so used to its docility I'd forgotten how powerful it was. My companion does not sustain lasting wounds from these encounters because I am quick enough with my ropecaster to restrain the attackers. Once subdued, my Broadhead enthusiastically stomps whatever dared threaten it into thousands of metal pieces.

Necessity dictates that I increase my fighting prowess. Slaying the Ravager had given me a taste for the thrill of combat so this is not a fact I mind too much. When given a choice, I still avoid conflict but am not afraid to fight if there is no alternative. My knowledge of medicinal herbs serves me well during the journey. Although I become more proficient at taking down machines, every battle is unpredictable so I usually suffer an injury or two.

The worst occurs when a Broadhead tears my side as I roll away from its charge. Herbs and water keep the wound from becoming infected but I am in danger of bleeding out without proper medical attention. Thankfully, the Sun blesses me with the arrival of a trader who happens to possess some healing skills. He teaches me how to sew wounds closed.

This event proves to me that my self-appointed quest is not ill-fated. While moving farther away from home I'd wondered if the increasing number of machines was a bad omen. After all, my reasons for embarking on this journey are based solely on presumptions and observations skewed by emotions. The Sun's provision of someone to facilitate my healing after the Broadhead incident convinces me that, although the trek is dangerous, it is not destined to fail. Sometimes I seriously consider returning to the safety of Meridian life, getting married and growing old under stands of drying herbs. Despite these daydreams I get up every morning and continue in the footsteps of Aloy, accepting whatever consequences my motivations spawn. 

A complimentary desire has risen up to accompany my concern for the famous warrior. Her gift of the tame Broadhead, and my subsequent discovery of its gardening functions, intrigues me. Are machines caretakers to life? If so, why do they attack humans on sight? Did the Old Ones create these as well as the ones that destroyed them? Is there a way the tribes can live in harmony with them? Would we want to? These and many other questions spin through my mind. Hopefully following someone integral to the recent events involving Old Ones and machines will help me answer them.

On day twenty-four I am camped in the cradle of a mountain range. The climate is warm but no longer sweltering. Aloy's current path is bringing us closer to lands traditionally held by the Banuk, although I have no way of knowing if this is intentional. The map I purchased before leaving Meridan depicts a landscape of increasingly treacherous conditions if she does not change course. Where exactly is she going, and why?

I'd been forced to take down two Sawtooths since the last settlement five days ago, yesterday's encounter nearly resulting in a lost leg. My trusty ropecaster saved me yet again, its strong binds giving me the time I needed to deal damage to the machine's most vulnerable areas. In moments of desperation I'd also utilised shock bombs. I know my fighting skills have improved but these battles were intense and contained far too many close calls for my peace of mind. I am now convinced that my success with the Ravager near the outpost resulted more from luck than skill.

Beneath the sparse branches of a dying tree with a concealing rock on either side, I eat an evening meal, do a final scout of the area then settle in for the night. Despite the lack of natural cover I've managed to find a nook where my Broadhead is relatively protected. It is farther from my sleeping spot than I like but not so far that I can't get to it if attacked. Weeks of solitude have made me accustomed to considering machine-related threats. I am, therefore, woefully unprepared when I snap awake only moments after drifting off, a cold blade pressed against my throat.

Forcing myself to remain still, my mind works at twice its normal speed cataloguing ways I might get out of this unharmed. My captor is holding me against them with an iron grip, severely limiting movement of my upper body. Using a bow is impossible, my ropecaster and supplies are out of arms' reach. The knives I use to butcher prey and cut herbs are nearby but even if I manage to grab one of them my throat would be slit before I could strike back. Ultimately, I lay still, listening to my own rapid breathing.

“Why are you following me?”

The voice makes my thoughts freeze, confusion mixing with the fear. _But that's..._ My eyes strain to see the figure behind me but the position permits only a glimpse of armoured shoulder and a heavily muscled arm. Thankfully, the sharp blade gives my throat more room and I quickly form a response.

“I...I didn't want to bother you-.”

“Tell the truth!” Aloy's voice is low and impatient, anger behind every word.

_Perhaps she thinks I'm a spy,_ I wonder, panic threatening to overpower me. _How am I supposed to explain myself?_ Even to me my motives are unconvincing... the fantasies of a lust-driven girl.

“I...I was amazed by what I saw... when you killed the Sawtooths. I wanted to... become a better hunter, learning from you without interfering.”

Aloy lets out a disgusted sound, her knife pressing more firmly against my tender flesh. “I have no time for distractions. Stop following me or I will be forced to take drastic action.”

She lets me go so quickly I fall backwards, scrambling out of the bedroll to follow her before she disappears. I've only gone a few feet when light reflecting off an arrowhead stops me. It's difficult to see Aloy's expression but her eyes are like small fires, shining with a ferocity that would have had the old Teresa running home. I stand my ground, stubborn determination holding my fear in check.

“It's more than killing,” I say, voice loud in the quiet wilds. “You showed me that machines don't have to be enemies. If you hadn't given me the Broadhead I would never have known that they nurture the plants I harvest – the plants we rely on.” As the words are spoken I realise how true they are. “I don't know where they come from but they foster creation, even the predators who protect the herds or break down the components of those that die.

I don't know why they attack humans... perhaps humans threaten these functions. I think you know. That's why you're so good at taking them down, why you care about them despite this, why you're always in the middle of conflicts. People think you fight to protect us, humans... you do, but you're really fighting for the machines. For understanding, trying to understand, and maybe hoping to share that understanding.”

My brain feels overheated from the culmination of so many thoughts. Questions I've had since first noticing the Broadhead's cultivation suddenly come into focus alongside this woman's activities. Yes, she fights machines but she also befriends them. Respects them. And her actions toward people... well, what better way to get people to listen to you then to become their saviour?

I've made some grand assumptions and Aloy might just laugh in my face. Machines fostering life – that's crazy. Wouldn't they also protect humans if that was their purpose? The Sun brings about life, machines threaten his holy plan. That's what I've heard growing up, yet my father's beliefs about sacredness in all earthly things now brings those beliefs into question. Such skepticism has made it possible for these thoughts, thoughts spurred by information gathered pursuing an exotic legend.

Aloy and I maintain our motionless stand off long after I've finished speaking. My heart hammers hard in my chest yet I'm not really afraid anymore. I sense that Aloy is no longer hostile but have no way of anticipating her next move. The hand holding her bow steady slowly lowers, the string slackening. Her arrow is transferred to the same hand, the now free one rising to her lips. Aloy's eyes do not leave me as a shrill whistle echoes over the rocks and earth. The Broadhead that's taken me over hundreds of miles gallops from its shelter, the tether I fashioned torn around its snout and neck.

My Broadhead stops beside its mistress, one foot stomping the ground impatiently. _Did it miss her?_ I wonder. _Would it have stayed with me if I hadn't been following her?_

Aloy raises one hand to the machine's head, her fingers running along the metal behind its ears. Her gaze finally leaves me to examine the mount, bow and arrow hanging innocently at her side. “Kept you all this time?” She asks, voice low but not quiet. “What do you think?”

The Broadhead shakes its head and steps back one pace. I've learned to interpret the action as one of caution although, in this case, perhaps it's more one of uncertainty. Aloy chuckles, the sound strange. Her golden eyes ensnare me once more.

“You're seeking truth, then?” The question is loaded, her voice somehow mixing hopefulness and warning.

I briefly consider my response, wondering what repercussions will follow. “Yes.” Straightening, I take a step closer, watching the reactions of woman and machine closely.

“Knowledge is a heavy weight to bear,” Aloy has turned hesitant, raking her gaze over me as though I'm an animal she's never seen before. “If you are truly interested I will show you some of what I've discovered.”

Her willingness takes my breath away. Although I have no idea what I'm getting myself into the truth is I abandoned caution many days ago. “Whatever you're doing is important, more than most have guessed,” I state, amazed at how confident I feel. How incredibly alive. “I want to be part of it.”

A smile tugs at the right corner of her mouth. Aloy pulls the Broadhead forward and mounts in one swift movement. “Gather your things,” she commands, “we have a long ride ahead of us.”

Dozens of blessings pass my lips as I hurriedly pack my belongings then leap on behind her. I'm reminded of why I began this journey in the Meridian marketplace when I wrap both arms around her firm waist and the heat rises to my cheeks. Certainly the Sun has smiled on me this day.


	5. Rock Paintings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her initial experience as a traveling companion of Aloy's does not go as expected. Oh, and the Broadhead gets a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going places I never anticipated it would, including a certain tribe getting a lot more development then it did in the game. This tale is definitely going to be more than seven chapters!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has shown interest in it. I hope the path Teresa's taking on her way to help Aloy is interesting. P.S.: Reviews are marvelous!

We ride almost completely through the night, passing herds with yellow eyes and stands of gnarled trees. The air is getting cooler, although that is the least of my concerns right now. When we finally stop I almost break my neck dismounting. My legs are stiff, buttocks sore from a whole day of riding. _Just as I was starting to really enjoy it again,_ I say to myself, wanting nothing more than to collapse.

Aloy places a hand on my shoulder, the touch propelling me forward into a small cave in the cliffs. We work silently in the dark space, building a small fire for warmth and unrolling our sleeping furs. I briefly wonder why we're sleeping in the daytime before my exhausted brain decides that's a pointless question.

The shelter is deserted when I wake, my foggy brain resisting the return to coherence. Panic helps push aside the remaining drowsiness as I kick off my bed roll and scramble to the cave's entrance. The sun is just past its zenith, clouds obscuring its intensity. Relief floods my body when I see my Broadhead grazing nearby but that feeling is stifled when I can find no trace of Aloy.

_Did she bring me here so that I would lose her trail – to prevent me from following her?_ The lands we traveled through last night are uninhabited for miles so there's no one from whom I might learn her whereabouts. The longer I consider it, the more sense it makes. She doesn't want anyone holding her back, which is certainly what I'd do. Our interactions from last night would have shown her I am determined and unwilling to easily give up – but why offer the promise of information when she never intended to provide it?

“To make me angry,” I tell my Broadhead, leaning against its warm sides, careful not to step on the newly cultivated earth around it. “To make me frustrated and stop trailing her. She thinks she can deter me by making herself seem less honourable... plant doubts about my security in her presence.” Pressing my face against the machine, I listen to its whirling components, the sound oddly soothing.

“Even if she was a danger to me I would still follow. I've come too far to give up on finding answers about you... and her.”

Nibbling on a piece of dried meat, I tidy the site, stretch out my cramps then mount, spurring the Broadhead out of its secluded spot and into a shallow valley. Unsure which direction I should take, I let the machine lead, my sharp eyes taking in the austere beauty of this sparsely vegetated area. I almost need a second cloak under my furs to keep away the chill away. If this journey takes me any higher I'll need to invest in heavier clothes.

My Broadhead makes a slow circle of the valley's edges, steep slopes and rough terrain prompting me to wonder if I'll be able to take it much farther. Broadheads are plains machines and not suited to mountain climbing. The thought disturbs me so much I quickly put it aside. I've become too attached to consider leaving my companion behind. “I'll find a way to bring you,” I say, rubbing the metal between its horns.

We're tracing the western side of the valley when I see bright colour beneath vines on a rock face. The vivid red stands out among the greys and browns. Urging my Broadhead forward, I dismount and cautiously pull aside the creepers. What I see makes my breath catch.

“Look! Look!” My voice is urgent but soft as I point at the elaborate painting I've uncovered. “Oh, isn't it amazing?”

The style is Banuk, each stroke made with hand or hair-bristled brush. It depicts a hunt: half a dozen figures stand over a machine corpse with their hands and spears raised. Moving left, I pull away more vines and reveal earlier events in the saga. The hunters prepare by sharpening their weapons and calling on the spirits of nature for protection. Then there's the hunt itself. They're hunting Grazers, corralling them into traps and tying them down. Each figure on the mural is twice the size of my hand, the detail of their outfits and forms breath-taking. The Grazers are not to scale against the people. They are depicted as huge, their horns and hooves enlarged.

“Wow,” I say, feeling the heat of the Broadhead near my shoulder. “What do you think?” I ask it.

The Broadhead makes a low chirping noise. This sound is rare in its repertoire but it's my favourite. To me it seems like an utterance of contentment, maybe even pleasure. If it understood the story on the wall before us I doubt it would have reacted this way. After all, Grazers and Broadheads are very similar. This makes me think that my Broadhead – perhaps it's time to give it a name – is reacting to me, not the art.

Smiling, I pull the machine's head against my side, one arm draped over its neck. We stay there for a period, comfortable in the silence and each others' presence, until rocks cascading down the hillside behind us change the mood. Spinning, me and my Broadhead assume defensive stances, momentarily blinded by the descending sun.

Blinking hurriedly, I'm enormously relieved when I see that Aloy is the cause, four rabbits slung over her shoulder. _I guess she didn't abandon us,_ I say to myself, not quite convinced. If she'd been intending to return, why take all her supplies with her? I notice she does not possess most of her gear as the warrior approaches so she's stowed it somewhere else. I'm not surprised by the fact that she doesn't trust me but am disappointed nonetheless.

“We're glad to see you!” I tell her, managing to sound only happy. Letting her know that her absence annoyed me won't help our budding friendship.

“Had to scout ahead,” she says dismissively, her manner reserved until she sees the mural behind me. The vines no longer hide it as effectively, the figure of a hunter stabbing a Grazer illuminated in the afternoon light.

Fire leaps into her eyes, a pleased smile spreading her lips as she hurries past me and pulls aside the plants. Aloy's reaction makes her radiant, my breath hitching for the second time that day. “I can't believe I missed this...” she utters, reverently tracing the paint.

I watch without speaking as she discovers each section of the hunt, the scenes finding new life in her excitement. All annoyance melts away, replaced by appreciation for the chance to witness this magnificent woman. When the last of the Sun's light leaves our valley Aloy snaps back into the present. As if seeing me for the first time today she smiles, swinging the rabbits over her shoulder. “I'd say dinner is in order,” the woman states.

Nodding, I follow her back to the cave, my Broadhead right behind us. As Aloy cooks her kills I gather wild vegetables and greens to accompany the meat. Most of the plants I see now are foreign to Carja lands but I am becoming familiar with many of them. While trading and gossiping in the settlements along my journey I made a point of gleaning knowledge related to the local flora. As a result, I'm confident in the edibility of what I gather, if not all their medicinal properties. The valley is free of machines, a pleasant change from the plethora I'd recently encountered. The luxury of being able to move about without caution is not one I take for granted.

Once back in the fire's glow I sort my collection and evenly distribute what we'll consume. Aloy has removed her armour and equipment, the ensemble in arms' reach and carefully placed. She looks small without it, each muscled limb rippling as she moves, performing what must be her usual maintenance routine. Someone as reliant on their tools as Aloy is would keep them in excellent condition. As we sit in silence and she sharpens the tip of her spear, I observe nothing to contradict this belief.

Not wanting to impress my presence upon her, I set aside some herbs to dry and review my own supplies to ensure they're in good working order. I'm repacking the mixture that softens the leather strap of my sling when Aloy speaks.

“Have you met any other Banuk tribes-people?”

Looking up, I see that she's constructing arrows, the activity so familiar she can afford to take her eyes from the task. Taking a breath to steady my nerves, I reply. “My father spoke to every Banuk that came to Meridian. He's one of few that's made it their home and, since the Banuk are a relatively small tribe, visitors usually go to him for guidance when navigating the city.” Putting another couple of nuts in my mouth, I chew and swallow then continue. “I've never seen more than a couple at a time, though. I've heard about their beliefs and traditions but never witnessed them.”

“They make beautiful art,” Aloy states, leaning forward to turn the spits of the cooking rabbits. “I've encountered them since leaving the Nora Sacred Lands but have not learned much about them. They're a secretive people, preferring to keep their ways to themselves.”

“I'm not sure that's intentional,” one hand fiddles with my shawl as I reply, eyes watching the regular movement of Aloy's working hands. “Father used to seem secretive with me and my sister, then we learned he wanted us to find the right questions, or a certain way of expressing ourselves. I've seen this tendency in other Banuk too. They don't like to waste words so maybe you could say they're... cryptic.”

Aloy smiles thoughtfully, retrieving a carcass and beginning to carve the flesh. “Perhaps I never took the time to find that out. I tend to rush from place to place.”

“You do seem to keep yourself busy,” I reply, shuffling closer.

The red-head laughs, although the sound has a joyless edge to it. “Sometimes I feel like if I stop I won't get going again.” She places thin slices of meat in my bowl, strong fingers glistening with fat.

I carefully consider my response before voicing it. Aloy has just revealed something personal and I want to encourage such confidence. I can't afford the misinterpretations of our first fireside chat.

“I feel that way too, I certainly can't claim any great feats but sometimes it seems like I move from one task to another without caring about it. Doing for the sake of doing. My life was good in Meridian, unharmed. That's the ideal, right?” I nibble a piece of meat, feeling Aloy's eyes on me as she waits to see if I will continue. I do.

“Yet, there's something empty about my life, I suppose you might consider it a lack of purpose. I wasn't really aware of it until you introduced me to Billy... the tamed Broadhead.”

“Billy?” Aloy chuckles, the sound warm and rich.

I smile knowingly, giving a small shrug. “I've always liked the name. It's not common, more of an Old One name. It seemed to suit him.”

“It,” Aloy corrects, her humour cooling a little.

“Yes.” I finish the meat in my bowl, wiping my mouth and hands on a rag. “It's probably not wise to name a machine. Naming makes it more human and I... there will probably come a time when I have to release it, or it gets destroyed by other machines. But... I've become attached.” If I squint toward the cave's entrance I can just make out the faint glow of Billy's eyes as he rummages in the dirt.

“Your considerate gesture changed my life,” I continue, “I can't stop wondering if each machine has a purpose and what that might be. If they do, did the Old Ones design them that way? We're told that Old Ones destroyed themselves with such creatures... that doesn't seem to make sense considering what Billy does.”

“You've given this a lot of thought,” Aloy acknowledges, her voice low. She's wrapped her arms around her knees, head lying on them as she gazes at me. Her thick red hair is cascading over her shoulders and down her back, glowing in the fire's light. With her face partially in shadow it's difficult to interpret her expressions but she's still here, not pulling away, so I seem to be doing something right.

“I've had time to. Such questions spurred me to follow you and in doing so I've learned more about the wilds. In speaking to people along the way I've come to see how we rely on machines for parts, something I took for granted before. I also discovered that settlements will leave an area untouched for a few years to let it regrow. When they return, the place is invested with machines and the area more lush. Other people have probably made the connection between these two things but we've been taught that machines are our enemies. If we learned they're the reason we have food to eat we'd have to ask ourselves if they should be hunted. No one wants to give that up.”

I suddenly feel exhausted, my mouth dry from so much talking and my brain squeezed like a cloth. Even I'm amazed at how coherently my thoughts have come out, wondering if the Sun, or whatever powers exist, has indeed condoned this self-indulgent quest. Growing up in Meridian every child is told that their life has a purpose. First and foremost, of course, is the duty to Sun and Sun's Own but after that 'each of you must follow the lighted path' is what you're told.

The excitement I've felt while embarking on this journey makes turning back the last thing on my mind. Despite the danger I want to know more about the machines that nurture the plants I rely on. This desire now burns even brighter than my initial motivation, although Aloy has become no less alluring.

When I do not get a response I glance at her, noting how she stares at the far wall, once more absorbed in thoughts I can't begin to fathom. As I swallow the final bits of our meal Billy makes a distressed noise. Instantly, I'm on my feet, weapons in hand, and moving out of the cave, Aloy not far behind me. A few seconds of blindness force me to move by sound alone. When my eyes adjust to the darkness I'm surprised to see two strangers standing several feet away from Billy, weapons in their hands but not aimed to strike. Billy is pawing the ground nervously, tugging half-heartedly on the rope tying him to a tree.

The two men are dressed in furs adorned with machine parts, luminescent blue paint in patterns on their faces reflecting the limited light. The attire and markings identify them as Banuk which is not surprising since we're just outside their territory. I have no way of interpreting their motives yet feel comforted by the fact that they are my father's kin. Perhaps I can take advantage of my Banuk knowledge to avoid a conflict.

Opening my palms and holding them out, I approach the men and greet them in the formal way. I cannot use my father's titles but possess a few of my own. While the Banuk have first and last names like the other tribes, certain titles are earned through interactions and achievements. I'm loathe to admit that one of the titles I've acquired is 'Trouble-Seeker' since, even as a young child, I was always getting into things I shouldn't have. Even Banuk last names generally relate more to a birth location than familial heritage. Using such an introduction should gain me almost immediate kinship with any Banuk tribe-members, even if we're not directly related.

Thankfully, my hopes pan out as the two men loosen their stances while returning their introductions. The slightly larger of the two is known as Tyran Whistle-Blower of the Highlands Adirondack. The younger man sporting heavier armour is Waylan Bone-Crusher of the Northern Claims adorned in Colours. Next to theirs, my Teresa Trouble-Seeker of the Clan Lairde is unremarkable.

I walk up to them, ensuring that my body is between them and the Broadhead. Hopefully this will ease Billy's tension and make them forget the machine. This is where my hopes begin to stop bearing fruit.

“How do you have a tame Broadhead?” Waylan demands, his companion looking between us with interest.

“It is a gift from Aloy, Mistress of Machines and Protector of the Sun's Own.” Although I cannot see her, I know the warrior is to my left so I extend one arm to indicate her. The men's stances stiffen as she appears from the shadows, bow in hand, moving with a predatory grace that momentarily holds me spellbound.

“Aloy who slayed the Carja shadow God?” Tyran clarifies.

Aloy is standing beside me when she replies, “I did destroy Hades but he was an ancient machine, not a God.”

I hadn't realised how relaxed Aloy'd let herself be in the cave. Now that she's outside facing strangers she's assumed an air of infallibility.

“Our tribe is thankful for this action. Since its destruction the machine spirits have become more harmonious,” Tyran says. “We have heard that you can perform many miraculous feats, over man and machine. What brings you to the edge of Banuk land with a tamed guide?”

_Guide?_ I ask myself. I have heard machines referred to as many things in the Banuk tribe but generally as useful beasts or protectors of the natural world, not creatures willing to lead people.

“We have come to admire the Banuk art and explore this rugged land,” Aloy explains. Despite her allusion to my presence she does not otherwise acknowledge me. She could be having this discussion as a solo explorer for all the input I'm providing. “I used an Old One artifact to tame the Broadhead. It makes traveling easier.”

Waylan and Tyran nod once she's finished speaking then look to me for confirmation. “This is true,” I state, “we are seeking information about the purpose of machines. The Banuk respect for them is well-known so we are hoping to gain some understanding from your wisdom. We do not wish to intrude on your seasonal migrations.”

Aloy's manner is too gruff for Banuk ways. I get the impression she expects to go her own way after this discussion but another possibility has entered my mind. Banuk are suspicious of outsiders and unlikely to share anything beyond formalities with her. They may, however, recognise me as someone who can be trusted. It's true that I have no idea why Aloy is out in these wilds but spending time with the Banuk should not hurt her cause. They are the experts of this region. That, combined with the fact that they could impart precious information about machines, is what drives me to take the initiative.

Tyran's interest has been peaked, if his brightened eyes are any indication. Waylan is more cautious. It is he who replies.

“Two explorers are welcome in our land so long as their actions do not disrupt the balance we've established. If you intend to travel higher we will escort you to our Shaman. Should you receive his blessing, assistance will be provided.”

“Thank you, Bone-Crusher of the Northern Clans,” using his Banuk titles should further help ease our relations. Few outsiders would be so considerate.

“It is too late to travel,” Tyran states. “We shall camp a little ways uphill. We will meet at this tree come first light.”

“At first light,” I reiterate, displaying the formal gesture for farewell.

Both men return the action then move away into the dark escarpment. Now once more alone with Aloy I'm assuaged with nerves. Will she be angry that I roped her into meeting the nearby tribe? Breathing deeply, I turn to face the warrior, eager to squash my uncertainty.

“I hope you don't mind that I... what I just got you into.” Running a hand through my hair, I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Aloy's expression is difficult to read.  
“No. I have never received such a formal invitation,” she replies while unstringing her bow. “I do want to learn more about the Banuk.”

“Good.” We share no further words that night, stoking the fire then crawling into our bedrolls. I notice Aloy set several trip wires near the door. I imagine this is to alert us of any intruders. I can't say I blame her for being careful yet it reminds me that this woman is used to distrusting others. The depressing thought follows me into a fitful sleep.


	6. Welcome to the Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Teresa enter the Banuk tribe and meet the Shaman. Hot tents are involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is even more slow-burn than I thought it would be. Since this story primarily belongs to Teresa these next few chapters involve her discovering more about her heritage and the weight of Aloy's responsibilities. These discoveries will transition into the romance I know many of my readers have been waiting for.

Once more I wake up alone in the cave. Although Aloy has left none of her supplies or equipment I do not worry about her absence. She's a woman of her word. I have not seen anything to discredit that aspect of her character so know she will show-up at the assigned meeting place. I cannot, however, help a sigh of resignation from leaving my lips. This is definitely not how I'd envisioned traveling with the Mistress of Machines. Thus far, our fireside chats have been one-sided as I told her about myself. Most of our time together has been spent sleeping or riding a Broadhead. Aloy is certainly interesting but I am quickly realising the less agreeable aspects of her nomadic lifestyle. Apparently even when she has a companion she prefers to work alone.

A handful of nuts and salted meat is eaten as I pack up the site. Having washed it down with a deep drink of water, I mask some of my unhappiness by singing a harvest song. The light-hearted tune is of Carja origin and is usually sung by those tending fields in the hot land. Its words speak of sunshine and bounty, the melody guaranteed to improve the mood of anyone within earshot. By the time I step out into the cool air even the fact that it is lightly raining can not dampen my anticipation.

I am going to meet my father's people! They've been a source of mystery and wonder my whole life. Now I'll be meeting them on their terms. So Aloy insists on keeping her distance, I am going to make the most of this opportunity.

Billy is nestled under an overhang looking none too pleased about the weather. With the water repellent furs over my shawl and tunic I stay dry everywhere except my face. The water is cool as it hits my skin. Around me mist is weaving into the valley's crevices. These are certainly not the best traveling conditions but at least Waylan and Tyran will know their way.

“Sorry friend, we've got to head out.” Tugging gently on Billy's tether causes him to reluctantly move out of his shelter. The Broadhead's metal shines in the low light, the glow from his wires leaking through his armour. Ensuring that my supplies are secured to his back, I pull him along until we've reached the assigned meeting place. Waylan and Tyran join me moments later, the shadows cast by their hoods making their faces just as hard to see as they had been the night before. Despite this fact, it is impossible to miss the humour in Tyran's voice when he speaks.

“Greetings, Trouble-Seeker.” 

“I greet you back, Whistle-Blower and Bone-Crusher.” Smiling broadly shows my willingness to trust them. “I hope you found dry shelter.”

“A sacred formation kept us from sickness,” Tyran replies. Here is the roundabout conversation I associate with Banuk. Since we are only discussing sleeping arrangements the meaning is straight-forward. If we get into spiritual matters I will be out of my element. _As we travel I will try to recall every conversation I ever witnessed father partake in with this tribe._ Having made this vow, I provide a little more information about my heritage.

Waylan has heard of my father but neither has had direct contact. “The man who wanted nothing of his people,” he states gruffly.

The tone contains no judgment, yet the title reveals how at least some of the Banuk view my father. He's a man who left his people to live in a world different in every way from the one in which he'd grown up. I had not thought the Banuk a judgmental tribe but, at least to some, my father's decision to remain in the Carja capital was a betrayal. I cannot discern whether Waylan's statement about my father is meant to include me. Before I have a chance to further explore the revelation Aloy materialises at my side.

Her sudden appearance unnerves Waylan whose grimace becomes evident despite the poor visibility. Tyran must have noticed her approach since he does not react. Both men acknowledge her with formal greetings that include a reiteration of full titles. My brief correspondence with them had not been casual but I realise how comfortable the Banuk scouts had been when only I was present. Aloy is courteous and even helpful as we navigate the increasingly rough terrain but her self-assured actions and direct manner are at odds with the reserved, indirect methods of Tyran and Waylan.

Nobody is comfortable during the trip. Thankfully it doesn't take long to reach the Banuk camp. The northern tribe make regular migrations throughout their territory so their settlements are generally temporary structures consisting of metal and hides. As we move into the site I see a couple of tents constructed around the carcasses of Ravagers, their fearsome forms made domestic with wind-shielding screens and brightly coloured cloth.

It was still raining and the fog had gotten heavier, making it difficult to see how large the camp was. Banuk generally traveled in clans consisting of ten to fifteen families. As we moved deeper I estimated that this might be a larger group. Everywhere we passed inquisitive eyes looked at us between masks of bone and metal. I'd felt confident in my grasps of basic Banuk courtesies with Tyran and Waylan. Here, surrounded by designs, faces and practices so utterly foreign, I felt like a child walking into a Glinthawk nest.

Waylan and Tyran stop just short of a large tent, animal and machine skulls displayed on poles around the structure. The interior is hidden by thick hides, thick plumes of smoke issuing out the top. Waylan goes ahead to announce our presence as Tyran explains what I've already concluded: we've arrived at the Shaman's residence.

These individuals of spiritual importance rarely leave the tribe so I've never met one. Stories of their power and influence are the only information I have to guide me and I am feeling ill-equipped to handle this meeting. Enroute, Aloy let me know that, since this detour is my doing, she will let me take the lead. Although I suspect she is annoyed at this change of course she seems to be deriving some interest from the proceedings. Evidently, she's never had the opportunity to interact with a Banuk Shaman. Perhaps she is also getting some enjoyment from my discomfort.

Barely a moment after Waylan's departure he returns and ushers us up toward the tent. Its entrance flap is now open, spilling light and heat into the damp air. I realise as the flap closes behind me that neither Waylan or Aloy have entered with me. Before me stands a short figure clothed in a loin cloth, elaborate set of chest armour and a mask. From what I can see of them, the Shaman appears older yet not as elderly as I'd expected. The most disconcerting thing about them is that I cannot see their face and have no way to interpret their emotions. Adding to my unease is the fact that their mask is the metal casing of a Broadhead's skull.

Steeling my nerves, I lower myself and make the gesture of respect. I am not sure if a more specific one exists for Shamans so hopefully it will suffice.

“Approach, child of Hapath,” the man's voice is hypnotic and commanding.

Doing as he bids, I move until only a foot separates me from the Shaman. In the seconds it takes to accomplish this I observe rows of herbs, trinkets, dyed cloth and metal components lining the space.

“I am told you seek the secrets of our metal companions and that you travel with the Nora warrior, hero of foreign tribes.” The Shaman's voice holds no judgment yet the weight of it is heavy in my heart.

“You are told true, holy one,” I keep my voice low, sweat beading on my brow. The heat of such a roaring fire is slowly becoming unbearable.

“Why does this bring you to our lands?” Curiousity and challenge, those are what I hear in his question.

“Oh holy one, I have only just begun traveling with the esteemed hunter Aloy. I have wondered about machines and their purpose for some time and sought her out in hopes of gaining this knowledge. I am not certain why her course took her to these parts. When Waylan Bone-Crusher of the Northern Claims adorned in Colours and Tyran Whistle-Blower of the Highland Adirondack met us we decided to request permission to traverse the Banuk lands.” Here I pause then, when I cannot think of any negative consequences spawning from the interest, continue. “I am also hoping to get more in touch with my Banuk family.”

The trinkets dangling from the Shaman's mask make a tinkling sound as he moves his head, one hand producing a bowl seemingly from nowhere. “I welcome you to our lands, Trouble-Seeker, may your questions bring you peace.” Shuffling forward at his direction, I kneel as he paints my face with lines in yellow and red.

“These mark you as a visitor but one with the privileges due to a child of the Banuk. For her services to the machines Aloy will also be granted visitor status. You both can stay until we break camp in fourteen days.”

“You honour us, holy one.” Making the sign of respect again, I resist the urge to wipe my face as the paint dries.

“You will listen to the tales we share at each evening meal. I may call you in for particular ones, as the spirits direct. Learn about your heritage, child of Hapath. May spirits guide your path.”

Bowing my head, I back out of the tent. The damp cold outside slices through me painfully. Blinking rapidly, I have the unsettling sensation of waking from a dream. I know someone is beside me but it takes several seconds to identify Aloy.

“Spectacle?” Aloy inquires, tone serious.

I probably look as disoriented as I feel. Now that I am in the fresh air I think there may have been incense burning in the Shaman's shelter. Realising that she's referring to my encounter with the Shaman I reply, “You... could say that.”

Bringing one hand to the right side of her head, Aloy's eyes scan our surroundings then turn back to me. “Waylan says I should go in. You'll be alright?”

Although the inquiry is more utilitarian than concerned I'm warmed by the question. Smiling, I square my shoulders and nod. “I'll be fine.”

A small smile dances around her lips then vanishes as she moves forward and enters the tent without hesitation. _She's stepped into strange places hundreds of times before,_ I acknowledge, looking around. It's now pitch black outside the glow of fires, a bitter wind blowing down from the mountains. Tyran is the only familiar face I see so I move toward him, seating myself off to his left when he offers. Billy is standing beside him, meditatively churning the rocky ground.

“Did Shaman Gajarth welcome you?” His smile is friendly but forced. He looks tired and would probably prefer bed to babysitting two strangers.

“Your Shaman is kind. He will let us learn the tribe's stories. In them there should be wisdom about machines.” The formal speech is coming more easily now. Peering around at the small group sharing this fire I see mostly warriors, heavily armoured and sporting many weapons. They are speaking quietly to one another, although that may be due to my presence rather than the subject matter of their discussions.

Now that I am crouched near the fire the chill has left my bones. I must trade for attire more suited to this climate if I intend to stay. I talk with Tyran for a time, glancing over my shoulder every so often to see if Aloy has left the tent. A freshly roasted boar with boiled vegetables is making the rounds when she does.

Aloy's expression is serious as she approaches, not even acknowledging me as she seats herself in the same circle and begins portioning food and drink for herself. My strangeness to those nearby has dulled the longer I sit among them, mostly succeeding at acting like a Banuk. Compared to the red-haired, confident woman helping herself to the meal I am part of the tribe.

Aloy's careless behaviour confuses me. It's not as though she isn't experienced with meeting new people and the necessity of politeness. Her silence and disregard for the social customs she's witnessed is extremely rude. Even if she's had very little contact with Banuk until now, my actions towards them should have made it obvious that courtesy is very important to these people. Courtesy and subtlety. I'm ashamed by her behaviour, almost wondering if I can sneak off without being noticed. Then I realise she's not blind to the effect her behaviour is having.

Her eyes are taking in everything around her, analysing the movement and expressions with veiled interest. _She's manipulating them,_ I realise, _she wants them to dislike her. But why?_ If it is another ploy to push me away she is going to be disappointed. I've come too far to let a little cultural ineptitude drive me from her side.

Aloy is finishing the boar shank in her hands when Tyran suggests he escort us to our tent. He is as discomforted by Aloy's behaviour as the rest of those nearby. My frustration rises as Aloy wipes her hands on her clothes and stumbles occasionally as we follow the man. Stealing glances back at her while leading Billy I decide that, unless she really can't hold her alcohol, she has not had enough for the level of inebriation she's displaying. I've known her longer enough to recognise it as acting but suspect that, to most people, these actions discourage further communication.

When we're left alone in the small tent, a fire burning merrily in the central pit, I steel myself to confront her. The determination proves difficult to enact. Outside Aloy, though exotic, had merely been one more person in the bustling camp. In the close quarters of the tent she seems larger than life, intimidating and breath-taking. 

She's deposited her gear next to a sleeping spot and turned to look at me before I've built up the courage to speak. Noting my nervousness, she grins. The look is feral. _Is this an act too?_ I wonder as she approaches. When she feigns stumbling I'm convinced that it is but am ensnared when one of her hands grabs my collar, the other seizing my traveling bag.

“Wha-?” I begin to ask, torn between fear and excitement by her proximity. Aloy's expression is unsettling, as though she's poised on a thin edge separating civilised behaviour and wildness.

“Now's your opportunity,” her voice is gruffer than usual, “take what you want from me.”

My mind freezes at these words and it takes all my self-control to stop my eyes from raking over her body. I haven't had a lot of sexual experience in my life but have seen enough to recognise when it's healthy. Nothing about Aloy's expression or posture is inviting an advance. This is a stance meant to challenge me. Being among the Banuk has made Aloy a different person. I can't fathom why but she is pushing people away. Perhaps the Shaman said something to her...

“I... I just want to talk.” The words sound weak as they leave my throat. At least I've managed to maintain eye contact with her.

Her gaze is clear and focused on me. _No, definitely not drunk._ I decide. The intensity in her eyes is not wholly fueled by anger, I'm familiar with what that looks like. Her face pushes closer to mine. I can now feel the heat of her skin against my face. 

“Aloy?” I ask, a trace of fear making it into my voice. “What did the Shaman say?”

She steps back so quickly the rush of air makes me temporarily light-headed. My legs are braced so I don't stumble when she lets me go – it's the look on her face that causes my body to shiver. For a second I see shock mixed with fear then it's replaced by her neutral mask. It occurs to her to soothe the mood with a friendly smile but her attempts to distract me are unsuccessful. The Shaman did say something that upset her. I have no right to pry but to hell with proper behaviour. If she can toy with my emotions to suit her purpose then I can ask her some pointed questions!

“I didn't want this visit to upset you but it's so hard to know what will.” My voice rises with every word. Only with considerable effort am I able to restrain the urge to take out my anger on her. That route will  not encourage her confidence.

Shrugging off my pack and furs, I take a step towards her. She stands her ground although I can see the desire to flee in her posture. Why she stays is a mystery but I am going to take full advantage of the situation.

“We don't know each other well so here are a few things about me. I'm shy and reserved, particularly around strangers. This does not stop me from investigating anything that intrigues me. Billy is one of the most intriguing puzzle I've ever encountered. I want to learn more about him and all other machines. They have a purpose, one you have some insight to. I'm grateful that you offered to share whatever knowledge you can. I am also curious about the Banuk. I know very little about my father's people and would like to discover more about them while we're here. Perhaps they also have information about machines.

I don't know what your goals or missions are. You seem to be searching, lost, aimless – any of those could be true and whatever the truth may be is your business. If we are to work together, however, you need to be honest with me. I do not want to be manipulated or falsely accused. I'd love to learn from and even help you but I do not want to be a burden. Aloy...”

I trail off at last. At first I'd had to concentrate on my words then they'd sprung out spontaneously. The woman before me had remained still as a statue as my words washing over her. Aloy's eyes transformed from hardened disks to golden pools, the raw emotion so strong I was unable to confidently identify it. All I knew was that she was not fighting me anymore, nor was she running away. That was an excellent start.

“Teresa,” my name on her lips causes an involuntary shiver. There is no way she can have missed it. “You're right. I... am not used to company. I do not usually seek it out, I prefer to work alone.” A small smile tugs at her lips even as she blinks away tears.

I feel moisture gathering in my own eyes. _I did not mean to make her sad... why is she sad?_ I ask myself, hands itching to embrace her.

Taking a deep breath, she continues. “I cannot tell you what the Shaman said to me. Not yet at least. There is... so much to know about our world. The machines are an important part of it and I'm glad you're interested in them.” This line of discussion is steadying her emotions. I am both pleased and disappointed to see her body relaxing and the excess water disappearing from her eyes. Aloy's unhappiness is not something I enjoy witnessing but she needs to express it. 

“You are right that I'm involved in something big. I need people to help me but the work is... unique. Difficult to understand and even harder to assist with. I've been dedicated to it for years – since Hades was defeated. I stay involved in the world to remind me what I'm working to protect, to maintain peace between the tribes and to find people to include in my cause.” 

Closing the distance, she places a hand on my shoulder, her expression one of sincerity. “I'm sorry about how I treated you. The Shaman brought up some old wounds. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you, or the Banuk people. I'm not one to run from a fight but when it comes to people... well, that's another matter.” 

“Whatever you say to me will stay here,” I say, placing one hand over my heart. Said heart is pounding enthusiastically, my skin flushed. Now that I'm no longer feeling threatened I take in every detail about the woman's face from the top of her red-crowned head to the scar on her throat. She is about half an inch taller than me, not that she needs the height to make me feel small in her presence. As I look at her my legs become less steady. This close I can smell the musky scent of physical exertion and womanliness. There is also the smell of leather, damp fur and... a sweetness. I can't identify it so perhaps it's a scent unique to Aloy. 

The intensity of my desire is suddenly so overwhelming I close my eyes to retain control. Thankfully, or not, Aloy removes her hand and steps away, allowing me to once more focus on something other than her. 

“I... don't expect you to trust me right away, that would be silly,” I state, my voice embarrassingly airy. “I will prove that I am trustworthy and can help you.” 

“I hope so,” she replies, going about arranging her supplies. She determinedly cleans the grease she'd wiped on her clothes, the prolonged silence spurring me to settle in on my side of the tent. 

“Do you think Billy will be alright outside?” I ask while crouching on the soft sleeping furs and brushing out my hair. It is already longer than I usually keep it, nearly touching my shoulders. Perhaps I'll let it grow out and learn how to braid. 

“He'll be fine. He may be subjected to curious stares but the Banuk are more accepting of machines. They won't hurt him.” She chuckles then says, “I'm still not used to that name.” 

Laughing with her, I try not to stare as she strips off another layer of clothing. The tent's interior is warmer than we are used to so even I've stripped down to a single layer. Aloy has not exposed much more skin by the time she's finished, just heavily muscled arms, but even that glimpse has my pulse surging. 

_May the Sun guide and preserve me,_ I say to myself, exasperated with my hormones. 

Facing the wall, I try not to dwell on the thought of Aloy only a few feet away, or how much better it would be if we were sharing a bed. 

“Teresa,” Aloy's voice has an edge in its softness that instantly has me alert. 

Turning my head toward her, I see that she is staring at the ceiling, head propped up on her folded arms. A second later she continues. 

“I know you're... interested in me but I don't want to get your hopes up. I don't become involved with people, particularly those who show an interest in my work. There's too much at stake to risk complications. If you don't want to continue, knowing that, I'll understand.” 

“Ok... thank you.” My face feels like it's the same temperature as the tinder in the fire beside us. Of course she would notice my attraction – only a fool wouldn't. At least she is still willing to work with me. Disappointed and ashamed about being discovered, I fight back the lingering fantasies until the tent's heat drags me into slumber. 


	7. The Weight of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa learns more about Banuk traditions and practices. Then she learns about her role in Aloy's quest, at least from the Shaman's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who's been kind enough to comment and provide fodder for my imagination in regards to this story. The next chapter will involve a couple of events that accelerate the growth of Aloy and Teresa's relationship. Feedback is always appreciated! :)

The fact that I once more wake up alone only results in a flicker of annoyance the next day. There are too many other things to think about, or so I tell myself. After dressing I take a long drink of water and check on Billy. Although disconcerted by the people constantly coming and going, he is no worse for having spent a night in the Banuk camp. Taking him by the tether, I lead him to the nearest wild space where he can graze in peace. One of the Banuk sentries greets me in the formal way and offers to keep an eye on the Broadhead.

Having thanked him, I return to camp and am met by a woman called Maresa, Storykeeper Mother of Crevice-Hills and Twin-Trees. Such auspicious titles signals her as a woman of high importance in the tribe. My suspicions are confirmed when she explains that she will be educating me in the Banuk oral traditions so that I can understand my non-Carja heritage. She ushers me into the communal eating area and I'm bombarded with questions by eager children over breakfast, despite their parents best efforts. Not surprisingly, the children are fascinated by my Broadhead and jubilant to discover he has a name. They are also eager to hear about the Carja and their strange land where it never snows.

I manage to finish a small meal, finding that I've promised a good number of youths a closer look at Billy, before Maresa once again directs me to a new area of the camp. Seated beneath a wind-break constructed over a Ravager corpse, Maresa tells me what life would have been like had I grown-up among the Banuk. It rapidly becomes apparent that beliefs about natural spirits are incorporated into every aspect of their lives. While the Carja openly worship the Sun, Banuk display devotion in less obvious ways, subtle mannerisms and turns of phrase how they honour the world around them.

“Everything has a spirit,” Maresa instructs, revealing a rock from beneath her furs. “It does not have to be alive. This rock embodies none of the characteristics we expect for life: movement, expression, noise, yet it is just as alive as you. It helps build the world we need to survive, supporting other life and becoming the components machines and tools are built from.” She turns the rock in her hand and I gasp, astonished by the veins of colour running through what initially looked like a common grey rock.

“Some show their spirits to remind us that our perceptions are limited. Understanding the entirety of life is impossible as we are merely one part of it.”

“You must think my journey a foolish one,” I reply, wrapping my furs tighter around my shoulders. People pass us by as they go about their daily toils, tending children, repairing and constructing, talking and cooking. It's all so strange yet also familiar. After all, inhabitants of Meridian performed the same activities, just in a completely different environment.

“The pursuit of knowledge is not foolish,” Maresa replies. “Expecting to understand everything you uncover, however, is arrogant. It is what destroyed the Old Ones. Knowledge helps us better respect the majesty of our world.”

When Maresa leaves me at the communal eating fire her words chase each other around my head. Exposure to my father and the Banuk who traveled through Meridian had not prepared me for the intense spirituality in their culture. Had I grown up in a camp like this one I would have soaked all these beliefs into my being. There is a beautiful simplicity about them that, even as an adult, has me warming to their messages. While the Sundom is about preordained leadership and obedience, Banuk spirits are forces working together beyond human control. Humans need to respect them to succeed but are no less or more important than any other part of the world, living or inanimate, mechanical or flesh.

I spend the rest of the afternoon moving between various families, introducing myself and rehashing my experiences. Most welcome me once I've opened up, sharing their own stories of travel and struggle. By day's end I am exhausted from the mental exercise, maintaining only a partial alertness as I retrieve Billy.

A different sentry is on duty at the site, the woman looking far more interested in my tame Broadhead than her predecessor. Leading Billy forward, I let her look more closely, although she will not touch him. Her fear makes me realise how accustomed I've become to something so out of the ordinary. The sky is nearly completely dark when I tie Billy up beside our tent. Sharing a few parting words, I slip inside the hide structure.

Aloy is seated on the other side of the tent near her belongings, a small device in her left hand. She's cross-legged and looking more relaxed, a genuine smile spreading over her face when she sees me. Her hair is loose and darker, the look striking against her skin. She's dressed in short leggings and only an under tunic. The warrior's obviously washed although where she found water warm enough I cannot fathom. At the moment I am not interested in such details, my entire concentration focused on maintaining a casual attitude. The woman before me looks like the Aloy I'd been getting to know in the cave near the Banuk painting. Seeing her breathes new energy into me and I approach.

“You won't believe the day I've had!” I exclaim, kneeling a few feet before her.

I've likely interrupted something but she does not complain or look annoyed. Her smile remains as the device is tucked into her bag, right hand raising to adjust the device in her ear. “I would love to hear about it,” she responds.

I recount everything I can, including my thoughts on the Banuk practices and beliefs. Aloy nods sometimes, occasionally interjecting her own opinions but mostly just listening. Her smile acquires an edge of amusement when I describe how interested the children are in Billy. To my surprise, she expresses a desire to witness the interaction whenever it occurs. I'm summarising the contents of my evening conversations when a voice outside the tent catches our attention.

“Teresa Trouble-Seeker of Meridian and Aloy, Nora warrior, Machine Whisperer, Connector of Tribes and Slayer of Corruption, may I speak with you?”

Aloy and I share an uncertain look, turning more toward the front of the tent. “Enter,” I call.

An elderly man pokes his head inside, his elaborate headdress of metal and ribbons almost comical in its size. “Shaman Gajarth, Tamer of Metal and Communer with Spirits wishes to speak with you both. I shall remain outside until you are ready.”

Once he has withdrawn Aloy leans forward and whispers. “Any idea what this is about?”

“No. The Shaman mentioned sharing some of the Banuk legends with me but did not set any expectations.” Getting to my feet, I wrap my outer coat of furs around me, anticipating the cold.

“Would he be so formal if he wanted to see us about that?” She inquires, pulling on her outer leggings.

A chuckle escapes me as I adjust my position so she doesn't feel like I'm ogling her while she dresses. “Probably. As a culture, the Banuk are not stuck-up like the Carja but they hold their traditions in high regard. Unless I marry into this group it's unlikely they'll become any more casual.”

“I've never understood such ceremony, seems like a waste of energy and resources,” her tone has hardened. I can almost see Aloy's shields rising with each additional layer of clothing she dons.

“Traditions are... comforting. Having roles and prescribed actions to fall into... well, I like them because they're predictable. No matter what group I encounter, knowing Banuk customs enables me to more easily integrate. Same for the Carja. They... I guess they offer control and identity, making one group feel special among the others. Sorry, guess I went off on a tangent.”

“Don't be sorry,” Aloy states, one gloved hand clasping my shoulder. “I'm glad you're comfortable enough with me to share your thoughts.”

I smile shyly at her as she steps up to face me. “Yeah, apparently you get to experience the uncensored Teresa. Beware, she may talk your ear off.” The self-depreciating remark makes me blush, staring over her shoulder rather than at the woman so close to me.

“I don't mind. Your thoughts are interesting and you don't force them on me like some people.”

I am going to ask her to elaborate but she's heading for the exit. Taking a steadying breath, I follow in her wake. The air outside is colder than I'd expected, a light snow falling around us. My face is numb when we reach the Shaman's tent, the drastic temperature change upon entering burning my exposed skin. Aloy steps inside with me, the two of us unsure how we should react to the man adorned in metal and hides.

One of the Shaman's hands is raised, palm up, toward the smoke hole, the other hovers over the roaring fire. I am beginning the gestures of respect when the flames turn a sickly green, a strange hissing sound filling the space. If I hadn't left my weapons in our sleeping tent one would have been in my hands, itching to fight off the disturbing creature rising from the Shaman's fire.

“It's said that the first machines were born of ash and lightening, rumbling down from their mountain wombs to traverse the wastelands left by the Old Ones,” Shaman Garjarth's voice is strong and still possesses the hypnotic quality I'd noticed at our first meeting.

“The machines kept the seeds of life in their hearts, gradually dispersing them in their churning of barren earth and rock. Despite the challenges of bringing life to a lifeless land, the machines persevered knowing that only they could restore what had been lost.” Lowering his hands, the Shaman indicated that we should come forward and be seated, actions that Aloy and I performed with hesitation. Once we were settled, he continued his story.

“Machines are not like other living things. Those of the Old Ones were created with spirits bent on destruction. The Great Mother, who loves all creations, recognised their threat and potential. She took the designs Old Ones established and remade them in the image of her soft-fleshed children so that machines could understand the lives of the creatures their actions would support.

The Great Mother wove love into their wires and armour, birthing compassion alongside the ferocity. Machines love the tiny beings in their care, overcoming any threat to protect their fragile existence. Machine bodies created breaks against toxic winds, their interiors dissolved to feed the creatures that create clean water and air. Whatever was needed the machines gave and with each sacrifice their spirits became stronger, sustained by the hope that one day they would see the world the Great Mother had spoken of blossom around them. Only then would the love they had be fulfilled.

You've both seen the way machines interact.” The direct address startles me out of the vision the Shaman's words have fostered. Nodding, I glance at Aloy and see that she too is blinking as though waking from a dream.

“Then you know they communicate among each other. The mighty Tallnecks are tied in to these communications, distributing the Great Mother's directions to her metal children. They are connected yet also individual. Each machine can take orders and relay information but theirs is a lonely existence. What machines long for is true union with the Great Mother's life systems. Their spirits alone cannot sustain the Great Mother. This is why she gave humans another chance. Her machines enable life to exist but it is only with the help of the beings who first created them that she can truly restore life.”

“And what if we make the same mistakes?” Aloy demands.

I shivered despite the roaring fire. Something about her voice was foreboding.

“We must not.” The Shaman states, lifting a bowl from the low table beside him. “Until the Great Mother's restoration is complete we can afford no threat to her plan. Self-destruction on such a grand scale is not something most wish to try understanding – they look to others for guidance, preferring to give up their autonomy in such important matters.”

Shaman Gajarth drops his fingers into the bowl. “Aloy of the Metal World, although you may not have wished for this responsibility it has fallen on your young shoulders. Your actions quelled the Derangement that threatened to undo the Great Mother's work. In the process you united tribes divided by hate, connecting them with your bravery and compassion. You know many things about the Old Ones and the importance of the Great Mother's plan, yet you cannot single-handedly support its implementation.

This is why Teresa has brought you to us.” Luminescent paint shines on his fingertips as he holds them out toward me. “A child of two worlds, her spirit sought out purpose in the meaning of machines. Inspired by you, she struck out despite danger and brought you to us. We do not understand everything there is to know about machines, Old Ones or the Great Mother, but want to help restore her world – our world.

Teresa is our missionary. We can teach her more about our beliefs and traditions while helping you establish the connections you need. Teresa, you are new to Banuk life yet the spirits know you well. Your courage and compassion are assets to whoever earns your dedication. I would like to formally welcome you into our tribe by painting the mark of spiritual wisdom on your face. It is a symbolic gesture, although you can maintain the mark to show everyone your connection to us. 

How you and Aloy interact is for you both to decide. Aloy does not have to accept my offering. The Great Mother's plans do not prescribe roles, we are leaders of our own flesh and spirits.”

Feeling incredibly overwhelmed, I look at Aloy for direction. What have I gotten myself into? Spirits guiding me? The Great Mother's plan? All I'd wanted to know was why machines cultivated plants, and maybe get closer to an amazing warrior. I certainly had not asked for a grand adventure involving saving the world!

Aloy gave me the trace of a smile, looking as though she understood how I must be feeling. “Your choices are your own,” she reiterates.

_Well, I've come this far,_ I think. _Aloy is not shying away from the Shaman's declarations. Following her was my decision and I intend to continue doing so._ Leaning forward, I nod and the man's rough fingers press against my skin. The paint feels clammy and cool, although it dries quickly in the hot space. Once he's finished I look at Aloy again, nervous about her reaction. I have no idea what the mark of spiritual wisdom looks like. This whole encounter feels so strange that I wouldn't have been surprised it it'd all been some elaborate joke. 

Aloy's smile is soft and somber as she meets my gaze, one of her strong hands reaching over to squeeze my knee.

“I will let you both return to your tent,” the Shaman says. “I have given you much to think on. May your rest be peaceful.”

I don't remember leaving the shelter. I also don't remember walking back to our sleeping spot despite feeling the weather's chill in my bones. My movements were slow and stupid as I undressed, wrapped the bed-furs around my shoulders and knelt by the fire Aloy was stoking. I knew she was watching me closely but even her presence seemed far away – part of some other world where deities, grand plans and epic quests involved everyday people.

Eventually her firm hands guided me down to a prostrate position at a safe distance from the fire. Sympathetic words soothed my shocked brain although their meaning did not penetrate. In the foggy space between dream and waking I remembered what Aloy'd said about the weight of knowledge. I hadn't had the faintest awareness of the pool into which I was plunging. In exchange for this woman's companionship I needed to become a hero. How was I supposed to achieve that?

I spent most of the next day alone in our tent, dwelling on what the Shaman had said. No one came to fetch or even checked on me. Once again, the path I decided on and the methods employed to follow it would be my own. My old, simple life played like an ancient tale in my memory. Would I have returned to it if I could? This is the question I kept asking.

I examined the paint mark on my face with detached interest, the large swirls and diagonal crosses meaningless to me. Aloy'd taken it all in stride, as though this was familiar, but how could anyone born into our reality take any of the Shaman's words seriously? Perhaps I was too skeptical. It was too crazy, too daunting. I'd been comfortable with some change but this... this was all too much.

Spontaneously, Hymn of the Highlands issues from my throat, the haunting tones filling the cracks inside me. The song embodied the pain of loss and wonder at things that were beyond mortal understanding. I had never mourned for myself, would never have imagined such a thing was possible. I'd been too bent on moving forward, dealing with each challenge as it came, not considering where this journey was taking me. Never considering that it would forever alter who I was. I'd known the stories about Aloy and her exploits yet not believed most of them. Now I was embroiled in forces beyond my comprehension.

The sound of another voice singing brought me out of somber introspection. Peering outside, I see a young boy and girl, siblings perhaps, their gazes moving between me and Billy. The Broadhead is attentively observing the two strangers, his blue eyes creating a soft glow around us. It iss the boy who is singing along with me.

I think about stopping but the song links me to this child in a way I need. These children do not know who I am, have no idea what the Shaman has said or what trouble weighs on me. Yet the feelings are captured and shared in this song. As I emerge from the tent I notice a woman nearby, perhaps their mother. When she sees me she starts singing as well, her eyes dark and bottomless. Tears spring into my own as, slowly, each person within earshot picks up the tone until a wide collection of voices are sharing my melancholy. The sound fills me like nothing I've ever experienced, bringing strength and stability to my spirit.

People before me have faced daunting challenges. Even the people here with me are familiar with strife and facing forces they don't really understand. Aloy, the woman who's enchanted me, is only human. She's gone deeper into secrets few wanted to explore and come out shining brighter. If you had something to fight for you could face anything.

That afternoon when I lead Billy out to graze I am followed by a dozen adults and large group of children. Aloy is perched on an escarpment where she watchs the youngsters take turns touching the tame Broadhead, some only gathering the courage after several attempts. Billy whirls and chirps at them, a bit confused but content so long as I am near. The wistful element in Aloy's smile makes me wonder what she is thinking. Once the day has ended I feel better able to comprehend the pressures she faces yet still know so little. Her trust can't be rushed but I hope to prove that I can handle it. I need time to adjust to the Shaman's declarations but, ultimately, I am still Teresa: a herbalist who found new life in the shadow of a red-haired legend.


	8. Breaking Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa and Aloy visit more sacred caves then strike out into the wilds once more. Too bad things are a bit tense between them...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to acknowledge the book 'The Art of Horizon Zero Dawn' by Paul Davies. Since I don't own the game I purchased this book and it has been an excellent resource for Banuk designs and culture. It's beautiful and if you have a chance to check it out you definitely should!
> 
> The song for this chapter is 'The Child in Us' by Enigma. This song reminds me of those they sing in the sacred caves.   
> Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1wUVExfkkM&index=1&list=PLsIh_VBxa-M63Uc1QkSQ4wBVNtK1BKvaP

Life fell into a pattern for me over the next six Suns. My mornings were spent with Maresa or another of the tribe elders learning about Banuk traditions, routines and practices. While I was not always enthralled by the subject matter – the detailed descriptions of child-birthing techniques for instance – I enjoyed the majority of what was taught. My favourite lessons involved the tribal songs. Father had known several lullabies but I was pleased to discover that the Banuk had a wide variety of songs. Their love of singing was deeply ingrained and it was common for groups to spontaneously erupt in song while performing tasks. Some melodies were reserved for spiritual leaders yet even those often involved background accompaniment by the rest of the tribe while the Shaman directing the central narrative.

The fact that songs were used to tell stories was the most fascinating thing I learned. These were the ones generally reserved for traditional ceremonies led by Shamans. I was hoping to experience one of these events before continuing my journey with Aloy but, as the sixth day's Sun dipped below the towering mountains, I suspect that would not pan out. 

I only saw Aloy once or twice a day. Generally this sighting occurred in the evenings when stories were told around roaring fires, hunters recounting their exploits to an excited audience. She mostly remained silent during the storytelling but when someone asked her to contribute on the third night of our stay she obliged. Her recounting featured a particularly vicious encounter with a Thunderjaw called Red Maw.

Aloy's telling lacked the flair of seasoned storytellers but its content was enough to elicit fitting emotion from her listeners. The way she spoke of her partner in the fight, Talanah, made me wonder how deep their relationship had been then shrugged off the contemplation. This fight had occurred several years ago and, if any romantic rendezvous had existed between Aloy and the Sunhawk of the Hunters Lodge, that was none of my business. Such a thing was certainly more likely than Aloy having a romantic relationship with me.

As the days had passed I'd noticed the red-head becoming more restless. This was the longest she'd spent in one location since I'd met her so I knew it was only a matter of time before she took off, with or without me. That's why I found myself at the opening to Shaman Gajarth's tent the evening of day seven, the more climate-appropriate furs I'd acquired from a skilled tailor wrapped snugly around me.

“Have you thought more on my words?” He inquires once I am seated before him.

“Yes, holy one. I do not understand it all but know that I want to continue discovering how we can support life.” The blue paint on my face has begun fading but it still itchs now and then. 

As high an honour as it is to have such a mark, I am looking forward to not scaring myself when I look at my reflection. Some Banuk embed the paint under their skin so it never fades. This isn't at all attractive to me. I am far more comfortable being boring, plain Teresa. “I will be leaving soon, our quest calls us forward,” I tell the man.

“Should you follow Aloy, Aide to the Great Mother, you must be strong of spirit. Hers is a heavy load, one she has become used to bearing alone. Kindness of heart will make that load lighter.” He smiles compassionately, one hand squeezing mine.

Nodding, I give the Shaman a small smile. “I will do my best.”

When Aloy is not at the evening meal a terrible fear grips my chest. Perhaps I've waited too long and now she is gone, determined to wander alone in the frigid wilderness beyond my help. This feeling is so strong that I can't eat, wandering back to my tent in an agitated daze. When Aloy steps into the space not long after me I rush to meet her, relief adding to my high energy. Resisting the urge to embrace her, I let some of my concern transition to annoyance.

“I was worried.” I state, not wanting to seem too foolish.

“Look, I'm fine,” she replies, her voice soft but with a hint of defensiveness. “I got held up by some rugged terrain.”

The scrapes and tears in her clothes and armour confirm his story but do nothing to ease my anxiety-fueled frustration. “I know you want to get moving. I appreciate you waiting while I learn about the Banuk. I've told them we'll be leaving soon.”

“Don't feel rushed on my account,” Aloy says, going about her unpacking in a way that prevents me from seeing her face.

“No, it's time to go.” Sitting down on my bedroll, I watch her tense movements closely. Since I jumped on her so quickly when she arrived I hadn't noticed if she'd been in a poor mood before our interaction. She definitely is now as she ignores me, her aura of 'I'm untouchable' on full power.

Knowing that I need to let go of my anger - after all she can't understand how I feel - I take a deep breath and say. “Look, I'm sorry. You've been getting more anxious and I've been worried you might leave one day and not return.”

“You think I'd abandon you?” Her voice is like ice, expression tainted with disgust when she looks at me.

“No! I think you've got important work to do and need to keep moving to feel like you're accomplishing it.”

Aloy is silent as she finishes unpacking. My mind is filled with squabbling thoughts torn between discarding this topic or further communicating my feelings. I am opening my mouth to continue in the latter vein when a voice outside causes us to stop moving and listen intently.

“That's Maresa,” I say while getting up, “I'll let her in.”

The woman who almost feels like a grandmother steps carefully inside and drops her head respectfully to Aloy. She graces me with a less formal smile that shows several missing teeth. “Tomorrow a special assembly will gather in the sacred caves below this hill. Shaman Gajarth has invited you both to witness the event. The caves are some of the first our ancestors used and their tales are depicted in its echoing chambers.”

I know the excitement is showing on my face. Such an opportunity is a great honour, one that I do not want to miss. Turning to Aloy I see that she is interested, her eyes betraying her intrigue while she holds her body still.

“We shall come,” I state, reaching out to take Maresa's offered hands.

“This is good. We will begin the journey at the Shaman's tent prior to first light. Dress warmly but bring no weapons. You will not need them.” Inclining her head to each of us, Maresa retreats from the interior, leaving me once more alone with Aloy.

“Well, this is a interesting development,” I say for the sake of avoiding an awkward silence. Whether Aloy intends to remain unhappy with me is yet to be determined.  
“Yes, I was not aware of any sacred caves under this hill,” Aloy replies, falling into the task of making arrows.

“Will you be able to resist taking weapons?” I ask, sitting down. “I can't imagine doing so but I will, if that's what it takes.”

Aloy looks at me through her hair as she works. “I'll manage.”

I snatch a few hours of good sleep despite the race of excited thoughts through my head. Getting up before first light is earlier than I'm used to but not by a significant amount. Despite this, and my restless sleep, Aloy is not in the tent when I wake. Still anxious about the effects of our conversation, I investigate her sleeping spot and am thankful to find many of her supplies there. The weapons are noticeably absent but I suspect she's gone to stash them somewhere she feels they'll be safely concealed.

Two pieces of dried meat and some nuts are consumed as I walk toward the Shaman's tent. I've left Billy being tended by one of the scouts in a field nearby. The man's become comfortable with my tame machine so I am only a touch concerned about leaving the Broadhead. Adding to my unsettled feelings are the fact that I'm purposefully leaving all my weapons behind. Although I've become accustomed to not having my bow, arrows and rope caster while I move about the camp, the absence of my sling and knives makes me feel vulnerable. I trust the Banuk who've taken me in as one of their own but have learned only too well how dangerous my world is.

After taking a drink from the pouch at my side, I greet Maresa and several other elders gathered for the occasion. The sky is black, the surroundings beyond torchlight unidentifiable masses of shadow. Shaman Gajarth is stepping from his tent as Aloy arrives, her predatory presence shockingly warm behind me.

The Shaman's appearance quiets the group. He's dressed plainly, thick furs hiding his thin body. The man is sporting a far less impressive headdress, one that makes him almost identical to those around me. Silently, he begins walking toward the south, the assembly following closely in his wake. Soon we step out of the camp's torchlight and into the all-consuming darkness. When the ground starts a gentle decline I trip a bit over my feet. 

Aloy does not move from her position at my back, one I'm not sure I like. The fact that she could reach out and touch me at any moment makes my skin tingle with anticipation, a feeling that heightens when we enter a narrow tunnel that must be navigated single-file. It's possible that I'm hyper-sensitive to her proximity but it feels as though Aloy is always just an inch behind me, the heat of her breath and body fanning my desire.

At last a torch appears ahead and I step into a large stone chamber. Water is draining somewhere nearby but it's impossible to see beyond the small circle of light the Shaman's torch provides. One of his hands reaches out and Maresa takes it. Another woman takes her other hand, each person following suit until we're linked in a chain of bodies.

Holding Aloy's hand does not ease my physical agitation yet I'm thankful for it. Her hand is rough and hard with muscle, my own small in its grip. We travel deeper into the cave, the twists and turns ensuring I will never find my way out again unescorted. Finally, we stop in a smaller chamber with a sandy floor. A large collection of firewood is stacked against the far wall. A little ways from it is a collection of furs.

Shaman Gajarth instructs us to sit and drink from a jug he's brought. When the liquid passes my lips it tastes strong and sweet. Moments later my head is light, concentration wandering from one thing to another. Aloy is still a little behind me, although I can see her if I look over my right shoulder. The torchlight makes her seem otherworldly, her straight-backed pose the embodiment of power.

The Shaman tells a story of the caves' origins and why they're a key site in this region. He does not light a true fire, gesturing with his torch for effect. When he describes the spiritual awakening of one of the first Shamans he steps closer to the far wall and raises the light high. A mural depicting the moment comes into being out of the darkness, a gasp escaping my lips.

The detail and abundance of colour on the wall is even more stunning than what I saw in the valley. While the Grazer hunting depiction had primarily consisted of yellow and red paint, this one has blues, greens and even white to highlight the power of spirits in people, machines and animals.

As the Shaman continues to talk of Banuk migrations, conflicts and settlements, my mind grows heavy. The flickering torchlight gives the impression of movement, making the Shaman's words literally come alive before my eyes. Time passes yet I have no idea how much. Water is passed around then the furs are rolled out and we sleep, darkness pressing in on us outside the circle of the fire that's been built.

I wake alongside everyone else, as though the cave has brought us in-sync. My head is mostly clear, meaning that my fear of being in a strange place I have no idea how to escape is acute. I may have been overwhelmed by the fear had another emotion not superseded it. For the first time since we began traveling together Aloy is present when I wake.

She does not look happy. The legendary warrior is blinking rapidly to clear sleep from her eyes, clothes and armour askew. _Sleeping in that must have been very uncomfortable,_ I think, resisting the urge to chuckle at the wild mass that is her hair.

The central fire has burnt down to low embers but these are quickly restored to a roaring flame. A meager meal of salted meat, dried berries and nuts is handed out then the Shaman takes us on a tour of the cave's expansive tunnel network. The murals are awe-inspiring, some early attempts that improve as each following generation adds their art to the walls. Maresa and I periodically engage in conversation, including Aloy when she is close by. The red-head's contributions are minimal, generally consisting of grunts. Apparently her sleep was worse than I'd suspected. Either that or she really doesn't like being shut-up inside for too long.

When we return to the central cave the Shaman initiates a prayer that transitions into one of the traditional songs Maresa taught me. Another elder takes the lead vocals while the rest of us provide background chanting. At the song's conclusion it is picked up by someone else and then, quite naturally, I find myself carrying the central narrative. Losing myself in the song is easy. 

My head falls onto Aloy's shoulder while the cave echoes with hypnotic voices. The peace their harmony brings is so complete I forget about anything beyond that moment. I appreciate that Aloy does not shrug me off, her presence adding a sense of security in this magical place.

The expedition is one I am glad to have experienced yet am also glad when it is over. Two sleeps are spent in the cave. When our group leaves the special place we walk into fresh, biting air and the world around us is dark. Despite this, the depth does not rival what we've witnessed. Outside there is natural light in the sky, even without the Sun. The very feeling of space relaxes my mind.

When we arrive at the camp I move straight for the field where I'd last seen Billy, following the directions of a scout to find my metal friend. Alpert, the man who'd been watching him, chuckles when I embrace the Broadhead, bringing its large head flush against my chest.

“Such a miraculous thing,” he says, patting the machine with one reverent hand.

Before I've fully entered the camp Aloy appears beside me, her weapons once more secured to her body.

“We're leaving in the morning,” she states. Fresh air has not improved her mood if the sharp edge in her voice is any indication.

“Alright,” I reply, too happy to be bothered by her bossiness.

Billy makes a pleasant whirling noise that brings a giddy smile to my face. “It will be nice to get into the wilds again.”

Picking up my speed a bit, I bump shoulders with Aloy. “Off to save the world!”

Grunting, she picks up her speed and is soon out of sight. Emptiness flows into me, my joy leaking out the soles of my boots. _Why is she acting like this? Did I do something wrong or is this just about the cave?_

I can't recall everything that happened but suspect I may have been touchier than usual during the singing portions It is this suspicion that has me wondering if her sour mood is more directly related to me. After all, she was very explicit about her disinterest in my attraction. I decide to keep an eye on her and see if there are any clues. She's never indicated what the Shaman said to her that first night so I can't help thinking that this is still a factor in her stand-offish attitude.

To keep my mind off it, I seek out Tyran to learn what's happened while we were away. The answer is more of the same. I thank him for his assistance then make my rounds and say farewell to everyone who's shared their knowledge and time. The tears don't come until am tucked into what has become my familiar tent, a fire crackling comfortingly in the lonely space. Homesickness consumes me, recollections of a quiet, uncomplicated existence in Meridian making me wonder what it would be like if I'd never left.

I don't really desire this reality. I've loved learning from the Banuk, even when that knowledge occasionally came at the expense of my pride. As Billy and I finish packing up and set off once more into the wilds early the next morning I also realise I've missed traveling. The machine and I leave camp before most people are up, the quiet vastly different from what had existed in the depths of the sacred caves. I don't let myself worry about Aloy, confident that she will meet me once we are at a distance from the tribe.

Leading Billy along a gradually sloping trail up the mountain range, I enjoy the space and freshness around me. The Broadhead does not appear bothered by the dropping temperatures but I cover his back with a heavy fur blanket anyway. As the minutes drag on I start singing a slow marching song, confident that no machines are close enough to hear.

To my surprise, Billy begins whistling in time to the tune, his sounds unsuited to a wide range yet pleasing nonetheless. Love for this mysterious, miraculous creature fills my chest and I place a kiss carefully to his face. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” I tell him affectionately.

Billy tosses his head and chirps.

“Are you learning from people? If we had more tame machines would they change to suit us?” When I get no distinct answer I smile and stroke his neck. “I set out to learn more about you and here you are learning from me.”

The sound of a Watcher's alarm catches my attention. “That came from farther up, come on Billy!”

Taking off at a run, I ready my rope caster. The movements feel sluggish after so much time without practice but I manage to load and prepare my weapon as I come around a bend and see a plateau. Near the center stands Aloy firing arrows in rapid succession at a band of Watchers. Nearly every shot finds a home in the vulnerable eyes, the machines crumpling into harmless piles. A little ways off I can see a single Grazer preparing to charge.

Running forward, I aim and let loose two shots from the caster. A pleased exclamation passes my lips when it falls under my tethers. Letting my ropecaster fall back against my side, I pull forth my bow. I've gotten one shot into the machine's belly when Aloy plunges her spear deep inside the vulnerable coils, sparks and energy issuing from the dying Grazer. Annoyed that she stole my kill, I come up beside her. My annoyance grows as she begins harvesting parts, seemingly ignoring my presence.

“Do you often kill steal?” I inquire, planting my hands on my hips.

“You were rushing in too close. I've been hunting everyday while you were in the tribe.” The implied ineptitude sparks my anger. Sure she had been looking out for me but I am not a baby! I haven't lost all my acquired hunting skills just because I spent time in the Banuk camp.

“At least I'm not afraid to get close to people.”

Aloy is instantly facing me, the ferocity of her feelings shining through her eyes. “You think you know so much,” her voice is hard and cutting. “You're just a herbalist with dreams of grandeur. I can't believe I thought you had potential.”

Her words lash into me, rekindling long-held concerns and doubts. They also fan my indignant anger. “I want nothing more than to learn about machines so I can protect the people and life I hold dear! I may not be the best hunter or brightest mind but I am sincere.

Your intentions change from one moment to the next. Just when I think we're starting to see on the same level you lash out at me!”

“Maybe you should conduct whatever  investigation you desire without my interference!” Aloy is looming over me, daring me to back down.

Holding myself straight, I let the anger inside fuel my strength. “I want to work with you. You need to decide if you want to work with me.”

Aloy lets out a harsh noise of frustration, turns and stalks away. I watch as she continues up the mountain pass until she is out of sight. Only then does the regret catch up with me.

“Oh Billy,” I whimper against his cold neck. “What have I done?”

Giving Aloy space to cool down seems like the best course of action yet I know that if I leave her alone too long she will decide she is better off alone. Passing the time constructing ammo for my weapons helps keep my panic in check, although my hands suffer from occasional anxious tremors. At least I am confident that I can find my way back to the tribe if necessary. They won't be in the area for much longer but they'd be a temporary haven if Aloy and I have a permanent falling out. That's what scares me the most. I hadn't meant to get so angry with her, all my frustrations had just bubbled up at once. Despite the stops and starts in our relationship I'd truly felt we were making progress, maybe even getting closer...

A terrifying cry rumbles down from above, my heart jumping into overdrive. Billy rears and stomps, my arm around his neck the only thing that calms him. “That could be machines battling,” I tell him although I don't believe it. If there is a fight going on Aloy is part of it.

Tucking the new arrows into my quiver I once more take off in the direction of commotion. I don't want to see what machine makes such a blood-chilling sound yet my feet carry me forward, desperate to ensure that the stubborn woman I care for is alright.

I come upon this confrontation more suddenly than I had the previous one. A dark shadow passes over my head as I shield my eyes from fierce gusts of icy wind. When did it start snowing? Screeching metal on rock tears through my eardrums and I fall to my knees. After the fearsome thing has moved away I look up, squinting through the swirling flakes to identify the threat.

Farther on I can hear Aloy using her ropecaster, the rapid shots echoing like thunder. The mighty flying creature swoops around again, allowing me to catch a clear glimpse. The sight does not calm my racing heart. I've heard of Stormbirds but they are a machine I considered more legend than fact. I certainly would never have sought out a battle with the menace circling overhead, freezing blasts of ice issuing down from its wings when it isn't trying to tear you apart with its claws and beak.

I do not doubt for one second that Aloy hasn't brought down Stormbirds in the past but if she deliberately picked a fight with this one she is a fool. Fighting when there is no other alternative is excusable, purposely putting your life on the line is not.

Forcing myself to my feet, I begin to run once more in Aloy's direction. If I can convince her to run then we might both have a chance... That's when Aloy screams.


	9. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa must take on a Stormbird to save Aloy.

It's the most horrible sound I've ever heard. Suddenly I am upon her, Aloy's form sprawled over the rocky ground. She is clutching her right leg, several huge slashes torn through the clothes and armour.

“Teresa!” She cries, eyes wide with shock and fear as her face grimaces in pain. “Go!”

“Never!” My blood is pounding hot and hard, a strange energy taking over my limbs. I can vaguely see where Aloy tied down and injured the mighty machine, canisters and protective plating scattered over the snow.

Stepping farther into the open, I look about for the shadow, the world around me oddly silent. A faint whistle hits my ears and I roll away from the rapid descent of an attack, the Stormbird's shriek temporarily rendering me deaf. The ropcaster is in my hands and firing, some shots catching and others missing.

The machine's left leg and a collection of metal feathers in one wing hold it to the ground for a handful of breathes during which I pelt it with arrows. I am not nearly as proficient as Aloy and soon the machine is circling again, its mighty presence promising death with every descent. 

My legs and arms are beginning to burn when I finally manage to pin it a second time. Caught between fear for Aloy's condition and my own chances of survival, I step in closer than I'd dared on the first attempt. Proximity ensures that I land several effective shots but also puts me in easy range of the Stormbird's flailing body. One wing strikes out so suddenly I have no chance to react. I hit the ground hard, the world spinning around me for too long. The longer it takes my vision to clear the more certain I am that these are my final moments.

Blinking rapidly, I finally manage to make out my surroundings again and in rushes a wave of sound at the same time. Blue and red lights flashing nearby does not make any sense to me at first then I recognise the Broadhead attack cry and a new level of fear seizes me.

“Billy!” I exclaim, dragging myself to my bow. My whole body is shaking, desperation fueling my strides toward the clashing machines. Some of the swirling snow has dissipated so that I do not have to be as close to see the fearsome bird. Billy's attacks keep it hovering just above the ground, the damage Aloy and I have already done slowing its movements. Notching a fire arrow, I draw back and let it fly straight into the machine's exposed belly.

The Stormbird catches fire from the inside, its illuminated frame inspiring awe even as I continue pelting it with projectiles. I am vaguely aware of Aloy also lending her prowess with a bow to the fight, despite her prone position. The flying machine lets out a final stomach-turning scream, its beak crashing down into Billy's back. I let another arrow go although the flash of sparks makes it nearly impossible to see.

A mighty crash echoes around us, steam hissing up into the air. Pushing through my stiff muscles and pain, I step between shattered metal parts, flailing cables and melting snow. Under one of the Stormbird's damaged wings I find Billy, impaled through his back, eyes lifeless orbs misting in the wreckage.

Unwilling to acknowledge the truth, I wrap my arms around his neck, straining to hear the whirls and clicks I've become accustomed to. The tissue beneath his outer casing is warm although even as I cling to him that sign of life is being leeched away by the unforgiving weather. Curling around the Broadhead's upper body, I whisper desperately even as my mind finally begins accepting that there is no way he's alive.

Alive. That's what he had been. No matter who'd created him, my Broadhead had been full of life. He may have been made up of wires and metal but he'd had the capacity to learn and feel. Only the need to help Aloy, who was still very much alive, moved me from Billy's side.

Stumbling to where she was tending her leg, I collapsed beside her, leaned over and tore the fabric away from her wound.

“What ar-,” she begins to say.

“Let me work.” My response keeps her silent while I meticulously clean the deep wound. There are three gaping cuts in the front of her leg. Two are shallow on either side but the third one is deep, exposing oozing muscle and glimpses of bone. It is bleeding profusely so rather than take the time to sew the wound closed I wrap it tightly in pieces of fabric and craft a short splint from pieces of the Stormbird's wing. 

I can no longer feel my fingers, toes, ears or nose by the time we've managed to take shelter in a nearby cave along the rock wall. Aloy is handling herself far better than I would have in her situation. She follows my instructions without hesitation, making few noises despite the amount of pain she has to be experiencing.

Now that we are out of the fierce wind I kindle a small fire with debris then set about disinfecting and stitching the gashes closed. My patient chews bunches of herbs to help with the pain. Normally I would have administered this in tea form but can not wait for a significant amount of water to boil. As feeling returns to my body I begin genuinely fearing for Aloy's life. I've learned a lot about healing in my travels and from the Banuk, but am not a trained medicine person. We are only a day's journey from the Banuk camp yet I will not consider leaving Aloy until I've done all I can. 

The shelter we've found is sufficient but not ideal. You have to crouch to enter and can not stand upright once inside. Stray gusts occasionally find their way in, dispersing the smoke from our fire throughout the cave. The amount of blood is guaranteed to attract scavengers and if Aloy takes ill I will be forced to both protect and treat her.

This is why, despite the incredible fear and anxiety I am feeling about her condition, I say. “Aloy, I'm going back to the Banuk. They will have someone who can help you.”

Her eyes have lost their clarity and fatigue is pulling at her expression. My words cause her to focus on me and I am shocked to see fear in their depths. Then again, if I'd been in her position, I wouldn't want to be left alone either. Her response causes my heart to ache.

“Do you have to?” Her voice is so soft and vulnerable that I shift closer and pull her into a gentle embrace, ensuring not to disturb her damaged leg.

“You need proper treatment, I've done all I can.”

She nods, the movement unnaturally slow. Handing her another bunch of herbs, I move to back-up but stop when Aloy brings a hand up to her mouth. A shrill whistle echoes against the rocks followed by a moment of silence. I hadn't realised I'd been holding my breath until a grunting sound comes from outside, the machine's shadow passing over our shelter's entrance.

Realising I will have a ride produces conflicting emotions in my chest. I need to get to the Banuk as fast as possible - yet it's far too soon to be remembering my previous mount. Aloy is playing with the trinket in her right ear as I pull my furs tighter and crawl outside. Immediately I am faced with a Grazer, its twisted horns and austere expression sending a shiver down my spine.

“Well, uh, let's get going then.” It feels awkward and wrong talking to this machine. It is not Billy and pretending otherwise is a sacrilege to my companion's spirit.

The Grazer is a bit taller than a Broadhead so I gain the height needed to climb on its back with the help of some small boulders. Its girth is less than a Broadhead's, my legs fitting around its sides at an almost natural distance.

“Please take me to the Banuk tribe down the mountain as fast as you can,” I accompany the request with a kick to its sides.

The machine hesitates at first but after several steps picks up speed until our surroundings blur into shades of grey and white. I don't stew on the fact that I hadn't been paying a lot of attention when I'd left the tribe. There is a good chance I'll take a wrong turn somewhere and get us hopelessly lost but what good would dwelling on that do me? Instead, I focus on maintaining my hold, the Grazer naturally moving in the direction I think is correct. I'm confident that the Grazer will find its way to back Aloy using the built-in awareness of its surroundings I've learned about from the Banuk. Whether we make it back in time, however is a question I refuse to consider.

The wind is fiercer in the camp, fabric and ribbons whipping about like crazed animals. Arande, the medicine woman I'd spent some time with, is nestled in her tent stirring a pot of burn balm when I burst in. She is remarkably calm during my rushed explanation of what has happened, lifting her pot off the fire and preparing her traveling bag. Leaving her sister to watch over the tent, she follows me to where the Grazer is standing. This is where we waste the most time.

Arande does not want to get on the machine's back, even after I've mounted and done a couple of rounds to show her it is safe. Beliefs concerning the sacredness of machines do not temper fear of the damage they can inflict. Although I know remaining respectful is necessary to gain her assistance my anger is burning just under my skin by the time she finally concedes, performing a lengthy prayer for protection before allowing me to help her onto the Grazer's back.

I hold her in front of me while we both cling to the machine's horns, the landscape once more a blur around us. Arande's fervent murmurs are a distant hum in my ears as wind and snow pelt my face. Adrenaline has taken the place of shock. Now every obstacle feels as though it is deliberately trying to take away the two companions who mean something to me. I am not going to let Aloy's spirit follow Billy's.

When we arrive at the Stormbird corpse the Grazer stops right beside the indentation to Aloy's cave and I slide off. My legs almost collapse under me. I am more exhausted than I've ever been. Determination feels like the only thing keeping me on my feet. Helping the medicine woman down, I guide her to the entrance, fear that we're too late causing me to feel ill.

Aloy is paler than I remember, her prone figure leaning against a seat of furs and pack.

“Aloy?” I say anxiously, touching her shoulder. It is cool. A rush of relief passes through me when I see she's breathing but the coolness of her skin is worrying. I stoke the fire while Arande checks Aloy's vital signs and the wound, quiet chants leaving her lips as she works. I brew broth, hold supplies and apply creams, following the medicine woman's instructions precisely. The tasks keep me from dissolving into a useless mess.

Once I've used all my endurance Arande orders me to bed and I sleep, although not well. Some part of me knows that the woman is tending to my wounds. When I wake several hours later am glad to see that she's keeping vigil over Aloy.

The warrior develops a low fever which we cool and break before a full Sun's pass. She mumbles a little but is otherwise quiet, a fact that makes me care more for her. The feeling stems from assumption more than fact. I take her quietness to indicate that she is used to appearing strong even when injured. The possibility makes me deeply unhappy.

Has Aloy become so reliant on herself and distrusting of people that she would rather hide her pain than reveal weakness? What makes her so fearful? More importantly, will she ever be able to truly share herself with someone? The thought of never being able to trust is a deeply depressing one. I work through these dark thoughts, determining that, although she may never trust me with her secrets, I can at least help to restore the strength and spirit of the woman I've come to love.


	10. Healing a Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa finds herself caring for a certain legendary red-head. Serious conversations ensue.

The Sun has passed overhead three times since the medicine woman's arrival and with every passing moment Arande grows more restless. She tells me that the Banuk tribe will soon be getting ready to move on. Some will stay behind to wait for her return but she wants to direct the assembling of her precious supplies. Since my sole concern is Aloy's welfare I'm not terribly bothered by her words. This is selfish and inconsiderate yet I no longer have the energy for caring about much beyond my red-haired companion.

Arande is sleeping when Aloy first returns to consciousness. I don't know how long Aloy's been watching me mend clothing before her rough, warm hand grasps my arm. I'd been so lost in my thoughts that the unexpected touch startles me and Aloy pulls her hand back.

“I'm sorr-.”

“No, it's alright,” I cut her off, happiness and concern playing tug-of-war with my emotions. Setting down my materials, I move closer to her. Aloy's face has regained its colour and the stress lines around her mouth and eyes have receded. She still looks tired, which is expected. It will be quite a few Suns before she's healed enough to resume her regular activities.

“How are you feeling?” I inquire, my voice soft yet insistent.

A small smile graces her face, the expression sending my heart into joyful flutters. “Alright, definitely could be better.” Her gaze drops to her injured leg and the smile disappears. “How bad is it?”

“It's clean and healing. You should regain full use but it will take time. The wound is deep,” I reply, swallowing the nausea tied to memories of treating it.

“I've been hurt badly before but never in such a remote location. I am fortunate you did not leave.”

It takes me a moment to recall what's prompted this comment. The fight with the Stormbird and consequent care-giving had pushed our argument from my mind. Fiddling with the edge of my tunic, I stare at the hands lying in her lap. “I'm sorry I lost my temper. I would never have left you.”

“You were – are right.” This sentence brings my attention back to her face. She is also staring at her hands, hair slightly obscuring her expression. “I push everyone away. It... wasn't always this way. I've never been a really social person but I used to love meeting new people, learning about their motivations and helping them protect those they cared about.” 

Peering across to where Arande is sleeping, Aloy takes a deep breath then continues. “I owe you more of an explanation than I've given. It's no excuse for how I've acted or how I've treated you. You've stayed by me, been concerned about me even when I returned none of that consideration.”

“You stayed by me when I changed your plans,” I put in, embarrassment making my face hot, “you could have left me in the Banuk camp.”

“Plans,” she laughs weakly, letting her head fall back onto the furs. “I never had any plans. I was wandering, searching, running. I never asked for any of this... all I wanted was to find out who my mother was. I thought it would help me understand who I am. That search only brought more questions and now that I have a purpose all I want to do is run from it. All I want...” she closes her eyes, grimacing. Whether the expression stems from physical or emotional pain I can't tell.

“All I want is a place to belong, to feel needed for me – Aloy. Not the Anointed One, Protector of the Sun's Own, Gaia's Mother... all I want...”

Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes and run down her cheeks. She makes no noise as they fall, sobs shaking her chest as she withholds them. I cry along with her, sadness over losing Billy and empathy for Aloy's suffering helping me forget my shyness.

Sliding closer, I prop myself up beside Aloy and wrap an arm around her. She doesn't immediately accept the intimate gesture then, after a while, lets herself lean into my body. Only when this has happened do I let my other hand take one of hers, a finger stroking along her knuckles.

Aloy falls asleep in the position. When my legs are going numb I shift her back onto the furs. Arande wakes a little later and our collaborate movements stir Aloy once more.

The medicine woman performs a full examination, concluding that only rest and time will complete the warrior's healing. When Aloy learns of Arande's need to return before the Banuk camp breaks she insists I take the medicine woman back. Given the prognosis I eventually give in, ensuring Aloy has her weapons in easy reach before traveling back to the temporary settlement.

Maressa intercepts me before I leave, providing additional supplies of food and components. Loading them only delays my return a little yet I am anxious all the while. My mind can't stop considering the worst possible scenarios Aloy might be facing, confined in a small space with an injury rendering her immobile. The Banuk camp around me is teeming with people packing, their energy contributing to my sense of urgency.

The journey back seems to take twice as long, the Grazer's pace reduced by extra weight. When we finally reach our destination I rush to the tight entrance and am relieved to see Aloy laying where I left her, tending her armour. The calm around her makes me feel foolish for worrying. Still, the uneasiness doesn't completely leave until I've unloaded the Grazer and am once more beside the warrior in our small cave.

I tell her that the Banuk will be gone in a day or two and she tries to assuage my worries.

“I'm healing well. I'll be a grumpy patient but I promise to do as you ask.” She smiles, humour brightening her expression.

I want to hold her against me again yet know the opportunity to do so is now gone. Aloy doesn't invite intimacy. I cannot expect her condition to change our relationship. Once she is fully healed she will return to being just as independent and strong as she was before with no need for the affection of a simple herbalist.

I prepare one of the rabbits Maresa sent while Aloy finishes with her armour. There are no greens to accompany our meal but a collection of dried berries adds sweetness. I've acquired some skill with cooking herbs in the Banuk flavours and find myself experimenting with them while the rabbit cooks. Once I've settled on a combination I set about rubbing it into the flesh, exotic aromas filling our chamber.

“That smells delicious,” Aloy says softly.

Her tone prompts me to look at her and our gazes lock almost instantly. Something about her is different. What that might be I can't identify but there's a sense she could do something unexpected.

“Thank you, hopefully it tastes as good as it smells,” I respond, keeping an eye on her as I work.

Aloy sets aside her armour and watches me, her expression peaceful yet distant. She doesn't speak again until I've placed food before her. “Thank you, Teresa. I know this has all been hard on you.”

“Life is hard, doesn't mean it isn't worth living.” My response surprises her. This time her scrutiny brings a flush to my skin and I avert my face to conceal it.

“I... I've come back to that so many times. I didn't ask for a part in the restoration of this world, yet I can't turn my back on it. It's beautiful, miraculous... so many have sacrificed to bring it about. It's our responsibility to protect, no, to restore what we destroyed.”

Aloy takes a deep breath. Her hands are shaking, gaze open but not seeing the cave around her. “There was a time, after Hades' defeat, when I believed this burden could be shared. The people who'd helped me in the battle were trusted allies and friends – we'd been through much together so I brought them into my confidence. They didn't understand everything we were doing... I still don't think I completely do... but each brought their talents to the challenge and I felt... well, we were a collective working toward a beautiful goal. It felt like the family I'd always wanted.”

Aloy's eyes glaze over, her expression changing before she speaks again. “Our network grew until there were small pockets all over the continent. I wasn't entirely comfortable with how large we were getting but was happy to concentrate on working with... the Great Mother. I left running the operations to others.”

Sliding closer, I settle next to her, food forgotten in my lap. What I've done to deserve this insight I don't know but am going to absorb as much of what Aloy has to say while she's inclined to share.

“I can't say I was surprised when some of them betrayed us. Their methods were not as well calculated as Hades' but their presence deep in our operations made them a serious threat. The Great Mother and I rooted out who we could then shut down the operations.”

“Shut them down?” I exclaim, shocked and saddened.

Aloy nods. “I didn't trust anyone outside my inner circle anymore and even them... well, I've never trusted easily and that doubt in human goodness had been proven right.”

“What about the Great Mother?” I ask, gripping my knees.

“She's called Gaia,” Aloy pauses, her eyes seeing me again, “she conceded to my desires and locked everyone out. Later I would reopen some of the operations but for nearly a year I abandoned responsibility for her project.”

Aloy remained silent for several minutes during which my desire to ask questions steadily increased. Finally, just when I felt as though I was going to burst, she spoke again. Unfortunately, Aloy'd decided to change the subject.

“It's going to be more challenging to deal with me for a while.” The admittance is said casually yet she cannot completely hide the tension in her body.

“Why's that?” I inquire, suddenly wary.

She stares at me for a moment, obviously conflicted, then points at one of her bags. “Teresa, please go in there and bring me the herb pouch.”

Confused, I follow her directions and bring the article to her. It's much smaller than my own pouch and well worn. She doesn't take it, instead indicating that I should extract another bag from the far left compartment. I recognise it as soon as I do.

“This is-.”

“The Twilight Nightshade I bought from you in Meridian,” she finishes.

There's considerably less now. I'm afraid to ask where the rest has gone then, as I meet her gaze, a wave of understanding rushes over me. The use is understandable given the glimpses I've received into Aloy's life, yet I'm still shaken by the realisation. So many Suns ago I'd been concerned that Aloy would intentionally poison herself. Now I know she has been, but for a purpose different than the one I'd suspected.

“Were you using before you bought this?” My voice is hard, fear and anger vying for dominance.

Aloy looks away but her shame is clearly visible. “Yes. I got some a few months before that and... enjoyed the feeling.”

“This will kill you!” The words are loud in our small cave, my anger making the space feel twice as hot.

For once Aloy doesn't bring her anger to meet mine. She fixes her eyes on the wall farthest from me, knuckles turning white as her hands grip the furs. “Only if you're not careful. I learned the proper dosage from someone who'd been using for over a decade.” The confidence in her voice is thin, revealing that she really hadn't cared about the danger.

“Is this why you stay away from people – why you disappear on me so often?” I accuse, gripping the offending pouch so hard my whole arm shakes. “Just can't wait to get your next fix?”

“Teresa -.”

“Holy Sundom preserve me!” I throw the object as far as I can. It hits a boulder near the entrance, the ties falling askew but none of the herb escaping. “I looked up to you, I thought you were brave and smart!” Tears are falling down my face but I'm too full of rage to care. “Now I see that your courage is just the pursuit of a high. You're so... oh Blazes. You're so – how could you do this to yourself? Aloy, you're so special, why would you risk everything for fleeting fantasies?”

I can't look at her anymore yet, even though I'm staring at the floor, I know when she turns her eyes back to me. Her response is small and broken.

“I... I wanted escape. I needed to get away from myself.”

It's only with considerable effort that I'm able to calm myself. The change takes a dozen deep breathes and long moments of thought, but I finally manage it. It's not as though she's the first person to seek herbal means of dealing with their life. Most people would choose a herb with far less risk, but then Aloy's not one to shy away from danger. She is just human and, therefore, prone to making mistakes. The fact that truly enables me to put aside my anger is that she's revealed this secret to me.

“I take it you've told me this because you want to quit,” my voice is strained and I still can't meet her eyes, compromising by staring at her left shoulder.

“Yes. I've wanted to for a while but haven't felt... safe enough.”

The admittance makes me feel a little better. I never wanted Aloy's life in my hands but it seems I get that honour in more than one way. “When was your last dose?” I ask.

“Aft- not long after we left the Banuk camp.”

_That would explain why she was so unpleasant,_ I think, _she was starting to withdraw_.

“So you'll be getting the symptoms any time now,” I state.

“Yes,” she replies.

Sighing, I shuffle closer and lay a hand over hers. “I'm glad you told me and so glad you want to quit. It's going to be hard. It's also going to take me a while to deal with this.”

“I... I understand if you hate me -,” she begins.

“I don't hate you.” Her face is like a child's, vulnerable, unsure and a little afraid. “I care deeply for you, Aloy. That's why I got so mad. There's enough stuff trying to kill you without you helping it.”

I give her a small smile and she reciprocates for a second. Her cheeks are wet so I use a clean rag to dab at them, not caring if she finds the gesture invasive. “You'd better eat,” I state. “Soon you'll be too busy biting my head off to stomach anything.”

The legendary warrior with a drug addiction solemnly obliges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twilight Nightshade is loosely based on Atropa belladonna, a toxic plant with some hallucinogenic properties. I want to thank BenRG for inspiring that aspect of the story. I am in no way condoning drug use, merely outlining a way people might deal with high-stress situations.


	11. Sharing Ourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Teresa bond under furs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have patiently waited for the romantic element of this story to set in I'm happy to report that it is now in full swing. Please let me know what you think as the remainder unfolds.

Seeing Aloy reduced to a collection of extreme emotions breaks my heart. Her withdrawal symptoms begin manifesting early the next morning when she loudly criticizes my cooking. From there she descends into a mass of anger, hurling insults and taunts that I avoid by spending long stretches of time outside the shelter. As night falls she becomes sick, cold sweat forming a thin sheen on her skin. I manage to get water into her every so often but her rebelling stomach makes eating impossible.

The following day passes in a similar fashion, sadness gradually taking over Aloy's emotional state. While I'm glad she's no longer lashing out, the utter despair I witness is deeply troubling. Names pass her lips, some I recognise, most I don't. I link some of her ramblings to what she's revealed about her past but so much is just a collection of information that's meaningless out of context.

She gets almost no sleep those first three days. When Aloy finally falls into a silent, relatively calm slumber I escape the confines of our cave and wander the escarpment. No sunlight graces the site but it's also not snowing so I count my blessings. Glinthawks are circling the Stormbird's corpse. Despite their interest no progress has been made on dismantling its body. This fact eases my mind about the state of Billy's remains which are still tucked under its massive wing. I want to bury him but cannot attempt the task until my living companion is in a stable condition. I'm not well versed in withdrawal periods yet suspect there are a few more difficult days ahead.

Since learning of Aloy's dependence my emotions have been in turmoil, fluctuating between frustrated anger and paralysing sadness. I don't think forgiveness is possible then, as I watch her struggle through the healing process, I realise that my love for her has only grown stronger.

_She feels safe with me... what she's told me about her life reveals how important that is. She's used to fending for herself and being used, if willingly. Given her upbringing, trials and responsibilities who am I to judge her motives?_ I watch her sleeping form as these thoughts pass through my brain.

She looks haggard and weak, an emancipated version of the red-haired warrior who's blazed her way into so many peoples' lives to bring light and hope. _I am honoured to help you rediscover hope for yourself,_ I think, running a hand down her face.

Gathering up my courage, I place a short kiss on her forehead. “You'll be the old spit-fire Aloy again in no time,” I whisper into her thick hair.

She and I suffer through her symptoms as her leg continues to heal. Sixteen Suns have now passed since we made the small cave our home. Aloy's disposition has stabilised and she's begun stretching out her leg muscles. She does not put any weight on the appendage, easing the flesh back into familiarity with movement. Although she's regained some of her vigor she remains subdued. Between her wound and the withdrawal symptoms she's used up most of her energy reserves.

Journeys to collect wood for our fire take me farther from the cave everyday, the Grazer's assistance easing the burden of travel and transport. I treat the machine respectfully but do not let myself get too attached. I've determined to set it free once Aloy is fully recovered. Machines belong in the wilds, helping to restore the Great Mother's world.

Today I return to the cave sooner than I normally would. A storm is blowing in and I don't want to get caught out in it. Mentally tallying how much wood I've stored, I unload the Grazer and let it go about its business before crawling inside our cave. The bright-eyed Aloy that greets me is more energetic and warm than I've experienced in a long time, throwing me out of my introspection.

“Hi! Glad to see you're feeling well,” I say, smiling and turning my face away to hide my blush.

Aloy's straightened up as best she can given her restricted condition but it's the health in her face and body that have my pulse racing. She looks almost normal, a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Hi, I feel incredible. Like new, almost. I want - ,” she stops, glancing at her leg. Her eyes lose some of their luster.

“Want to get out,” I fill in. Lowering myself onto the floor beside her, I place a hand on her nearest thigh. “I can't blame you but it's going to be very unpleasant out there soon.”

“I thought I smelled a storm,” Aloy's voice is soft, her eyes looking at my hand.

I leave it there a few seconds longer, boldly deciding that I'm not going to be cowed by my feelings. She doesn't express any disagreement with the contact, adverting her gaze to the entrance where stray snowflakes have begun to appear.

Saddened by the loss of her excitement, I suddenly think of something I would never dreamed of doing before. “Hey, Aloy?”

She looks back at me.

“Are you ticklish?”

Her wide-eyed reaction and tensing muscles reveal that she is. Taking a chance, I lean forward and both hands bury themselves in the furs hiding her middle. My fingers have barely made contact and she's laughing, an expression of unbridled release lighting up her face.

“Teresa!” She cries. Her arms are making a lack-luster attempt to fend me off but the smile I see encourages me to keep pushing forward, assaulting her belly and sides to get the best reactions.

“Ok, ok! My side!” Aloy exclaims eventually, her hands grabbing hold of mine. “I've.. got.. an... ache,” she pants, tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” I ask, some of my mirth fading at the thought. I feel light-headed and happier than I can remember ever being.

“No, I... my leg's just stiff. I... think that was... good for me.” She's regaining her breath, our hands still wrapped together.

“Mother always said that laughter heals the soul.” In this moment I'm inclined to agree with her. After everything's that's happened, I needed the joy to bring some balance to my emotions.

“Ha! He never said so but I know Rost tickled me to make me feel better. I always thought he was just being mean.” Aloy's face has resumed an introspective look although the corners of her mouth retain a smile.

“He was your guardian,” I state. I've never heard the name of the man who raised Aloy yet the affection and longing in her voice makes me certain in the assumption.

Sure enough, she nods. I begin to extract my hands but she holds them tight, several emotions playing over her face so fast I can't identify them. “Teresa... could you lay with me for a while?”

The request is void of pleading, command or vulnerability. It leaves me a choice without fear of consequences. I have no idea what to take from it except that Aloy needs comfort. This allows me to snuggle closer without focusing too much on how warm she is and how earthy Aloy smells. Despite the days cooped up inside she's kept herself clean and I've aired the furs regularly. 

I'm not at all bothered by the thought of lying close to her but when she lifts the furs and shifts to make room for me my heart begins beating twice as fast. I slide in beside her and the soft furs fall over us. I've removed my over-tunic which exposes my arms. Otherwise I am fully clad in under tunic and pants. Although there's the limited possibility for direct skin contact my bare arms immediately touch Aloy's. It's likely just my overactive desire but her skin feels like fire. I hold back a noise of pleasure by biting my lower lip. 

Thankfully, she can't see my face. My head is leaning against her shoulder, one arm over her stomach, the other tucked between us. Her left arm is behind my shoulders, loosely pressing me to her side while the fingers of her right hand lightly caress my hand in her lap. There's nothing sexual about the position, and I certainly don't get the impression Aloy is making an advance, but I can't help how excited my body is getting. It's been so long since I felt even remotely aroused that now it's consumed my awareness, every muscle alert in anticipation.

Aloy exhales by my ear which does not help quiet my raging blood. Then she begins speaking, her deep, lilting voice carrying me into her story. “Rost was never particularly affectionate. Sometimes I felt like he didn't know how to express any emotion, only give orders. As I got older I realised that was how he expressed his love – by teaching me how to survive.” There is a smile in her voice and I find myself smiling along with her, mind envisioning what this man might have looked like.

“He didn't always know how to deal with me, especially when I was young. He learned that channeling my energy into training was an effective way of keeping me out of trouble. When I was getting stressed or upset he would either leave me to my own devices or tickle me.” She laughs, the sound gentle.

“He did the latter less as I got older and I came to miss it. Sometimes I'd gotten angry with him when he tickled me. I thought he wasn't taking me seriously. Now I know he wanted me to remember what is good in life – to smile.”

I can feel Aloy's shoulders subtly shaking. I stretch my neck up until it meets her chin, otherwise remaining still in her arms. She exhales a large breath and lets her head rest on mine.

“Before I ran in the Proving – that's the Nora Rite of passage to become a Brave and, in my case, enter the tribe – Rost told me that I'd never see him again, that he was going where I couldn't find him. Once I was accepted into the tribe I would not be permitted to speak with him because he was still an outcast. I'd insisted I would not follow that rule and so he'd determined to leave so I wouldn't jeopardise my future.

I couldn't bear the thought of the only person who'd ever cared about me disappearing. I told myself I'd find him after the Proving, after I'd gotten the answers I wanted from the Nora. I was more concerned with my own agenda, determined to get what I wanted even if it meant losing the person who meant the most to me.

Maybe I would have found him... maybe we could have made it work, but then he gave his... life to protect me when we were attacked. He... he loved me more than anyone ever has, or likely ever will. Me, a freak of nature who's always put my own needs first.”

Aloy's voice is choking on her words, tears falling onto the furs around us and occasionally into my hair. I squeeze her a little, hoping to convey support without breaking into her contemplation. To avoid saying the wrong thing I say nothing at all.

“I go back to visit his grave once every two season to let him know what's been happening. I don't know how he'd feel about my role with Gaia – the Nora consider technology evil. They're right to be wary of its power, yet it is people, not machines, that destroyed this world. Greed destroyed the Old Ones. They had everything but it wasn't enough. Millions sacrificed themselves to give life here another chance – families torn apart, minds broken, final moments filled with horror.

That's what I have to remember – I can't let my own selfish needs get in the way of restoring life here. I've been wrapped up in my own troubles for too long. That was Rost's final lesson to me, I needed to fight for more than myself. When he taught it to me I didn't fully understand the implications. Even now it seems like I continue failing in the task before me.”

She falls silent for a spell, the howling wind outside whistling through our entrance. “Selfishness is good and bad,” I say, mind buzzing with what I've heard “if you gave everything for the sake of others you'd soon have nothing to give. We're all connected yet we're also individuals. Only after helping yourself and ensuring that you're healthy can you then extend your strength to others.

You've been alone for a long time, afraid to be hurt or risk the Great Mo- Gaia's project. We all need support otherwise we lose the will to go on. It sounds like Rost was always there for you, even if it was from a distance, and you've never discovered another source of reliable support. Understandably, you're skeptical about people and afraid of those you do get close to because they could be taken away. 

I only know him by what you've told me but I think Rost would understand why you've done what you have. The conflicts you have faced are unlike anything most people can even fathom, yet you've charged forward and tried your best to help those in need, from the simple herbalist to the entity working to restore all life. Everyday you give of yourself – what's been lacking is someone giving back to you.”

Unable to resist seeing her expression, I tilt my head up slowly. My position doesn't provide a great view of her whole face but I can see that she's looking at her lap, dried tears on her cheeks. After a breath her golden eyes meet mine. A strange feeling takes hold of me as I search her deep eyes. My mind and body are frozen in her presence. I can feel every place where we're touching, hear my blood pounding in my ears, yet cannot form a coherent thought. I'm compelled to... do something, although I'm not sure what. I certainly have no intention of leaving her arms.

The moment ends when Aloy says softly. “Teresa... you've been so good to me. I can't begin to repay you -.”

“I don't need repayment,” the words come out harsher than I'd meant them to and I'm sure disgust is showing on my face. “I care about you. Everything I've done is because I want to help you. You owe me no debt, I did it willingly.”

Fire jumps into her eyes, fire that is not born of anger. For a few breathless seconds I think she's going to kiss me then the passion cools and she holds me tighter. “I've already apologised so much... but there's something else I must claim responsibility for.”

I feel a flicker of dread at her words but am too entranced to care a great deal. “You can tell me whatever you'd like,” I respond.

Aoy inhales, the hand in mine increasing the pressure of its hold. “I let anger cloud my judgment after our argument and went looking for a fight. I've fought Stormbirds before so thought nothing of engaging it. Doing so was a mistake, one that nearly got us both killed. It... it did kill Billy. That must have hurt you deeply.”

My throat closes as grief wells up. I've got nothing to say about what happened – it won't bring my Broadhead back. Still, Aloy needs to know that I won't hate her for his death so I squeeze her hand and nod against her shoulder. This encourages Aloy to continue speaking.

“The day I confronted you about following me I left you sleeping in the cave and tapped into Billy's memories. This device, the one on my right ear, can do many things including communicate with machines. I saw how you'd interacted with the Broadhead. It's what convinced me you were sincere – and a potential candidate for Gaia's project.”

A humourless chuckle flows out of her lips. “It became a regular part of my day, checking Billy's memories. The respect and love you showed him was mesmorising... heartening. I'd never seen someone take to a machine so naturally. Most see tame machines as tools to improve their lives, not companions.”

“Billy was more than a collection of wires and metal,” my voice is firm and remarkably stable given the emotion shaking up my insides. “He had programmed responses yet he was also learning from me. When... when we left the Banuk camp I began singing and he... he joined in.” Recounting the incredible moment was too much.

Extracting my hand from Aloy's, I cup it over my face to catch the stream of tears. Sobs break through and fill the small space but I have no desire to stifle them. I've held on to my grief long enough.

Aloy's now free hand grasps my side, pressing me against her. After a time the sobs dissipate and I manage to say. “I want to bury him.”

Aloy nods against my head, her weathered fingers caressing hair away from my face. “I give you my word that we will.”


	12. Our Deepest Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aloy and Teresa move their camp. Aloy reveals another secret from her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past few chapters have included heavy subject matter. This one is no exception but things will get happier from now on. Thankfully, this chapter also includes lighter things... like Teresa learning about sun-powered stoves.

The storm lasts three days, a period in which we talk about hundreds of topics. Most are general opinions and experiences, but there are times when we exchange personally profound moments from our lives. Lying tucked up together under the furs becomes our usual relaxed position. Cooking meals, ensuring the fire is kept up and maintaining the cave's cleanliness are now tasks we share and only pass a small amount of the day.

Comfortable defines our relationship. My attraction to Aloy is present but I keep it from affecting our interactions, channeling my feelings into friendly affection. The warrior thrives, our conversations pleasing even though they contain a healthy dose of frustration at being cooped up. Her wound is healing well, new layers of skin almost completely concealing her muscles. Aloy's inclination to rush her exercises is shot down by me using sound logic. If she pushes too hard or moves too fast she might prolong the healing process by causing new damage to her leg.

The day after the storm ends bright sunlight breaks through the clouds. Cumbersome snow cover crusts over into sparkling mats of white, moisture shimmering as ice melts on the warming rocks. Once outside I do not want to go back into the cave, our shelter seeming stale and claustrophobic. When I finally do return the brightness of my refreshed expression only makes Aloy more determined to get out.

“I can explain how to build a sled,” she states as I assess the status of our supplies.

“We are very low on wood, I don't think we can spare any.” I do not want to shut down her ideas but am trying to think of what is best.

“All the more reason for us to find another place to camp,” she hesitates, considering her next response. “I know of a place not too far from here – about a day's ride. It is secure, warm and dry. It's near a stand of trees so there's lots of wood and there's even a fresh water source.”

Her points address my key concerns. Such a location would also contain game, maybe even some roots and berries to gather. Ultimately, these favourable aspects, in conjunction with the negative ones of our current location, convince me that a move is in order. Ok, Aloy's determination and longing glances may also have something to do with it.

It takes a full day to assemble the necessary materials for the sled and another to construct it. The weather stays clear as I work, my body revitalised by exposure to the outside world. The prospect of leaving considerably brightens Aloy's spirit. She takes on full responsibility for the inside chores while I work, building her stamina with prolonged tasks. It is her 'Focus', the small device on her right ear, that shows her how to build a sled. When I ask what other structures it can provide instructions for she replies that there are a great many, most of which are only relevant to the way the Old Ones lived.

She lets me wear the device a couple of times while we eat and I am overwhelmed by the other world of colours and knowledge that is suddenly available. I don't really like it, the Focus feels too alien and invasive. Contrary to my feelings, Aloy is restless without the device. After so many years of use it is an extension of herself and for that reason I appreciate her willingness to share it with me.

As the day of our departure nears I bring up Billy once more. If we are not intending to return then I want to fulfill my promise of burying him. Aloy solemnly agrees, suggesting that we bury him in our cave. Although I think the idea is sound I feel uneasy about the irreversability of this action. Burying him here means the site would no longer be available for our use.

Despite my reservations we decide to move forward with the plan. I use the sleigh to transport Billy's body to the cave, each piece familiar yet also strange to me. At the entrance I hand his parts gently down to Aloy who arranges them on a bed of Mother's Spice, a herb used to soothe the soul. We work almost entirely in silence, the solemnity of our activities making my heart ache for the Broadhead all over again. Once all of him is assembled in the tight space, I sing the tune he'd whistled alongside me on our journey up the mountain. Aloy's hands clasp mine while the tears stream down my face, love for my departed friend somehow making the sorrow easier to bear.

Getting Aloy out of the cave is a struggle. She's regained some of her strength but moving her entire weight without applying too much pressure to her injured leg presents many challenges. The rocky setting and tight quarters do not help our enterprise. It takes several attempts with periods of rest to get her outside and into the sled. She is pale and exhausted after the ordeal yet stubbornly insists that we set out.

I let Aloy arrange our supplies around her while I shut-up the cave's entrance with rocks and gravel. A small handful of well-preserved Amaranth flowers go beneath a few larger stones at the base of the mound. I say a Carja prayer then walk away, not looking back as I mount the Grazer and kick him into a walk. No one will know how special this place is... that here, beneath snow and earth, a machine gave its life for a human. From that sacrifice came the healing of a woman everyone thought unstoppable. Now we are leaving it behind, stepping into some other segment of life in which joy and sadness are always near.

The Grazer does not like having a strange, heavy contraption behind it. The machine reluctantly gives into my commands to push forward, resisting at every obstacle and casting frequent disgruntled looks over its shoulders. What should have been a day's journey becomes two. Instead of moving Aloy off the sled we tuck into a sheltered mountainside and sleep cuddled up together.

Travel is easier the next day. The Grazer seems to have grudgingly accepted its lot and pulls the sled without much fuss. We gradually move down the mountain range, snow receding the lower we descend. When we come upon the spot Aloy states is our destination only shallow drifts remain. The usability of our sled is compromised by the lack of snow and, much to my displeasure, Aloy insists she stand and walk to the cave's entrance, or rather, hobble with my help to said entrance.

At first I think Aloy may have not have correctly remembered the location since the cliff-face before us appears as impenetrable as the others we've passed. Even knowing her Focus can identify hidden routes does not convince me until I've pulled aside the hanging vines to reveal a door-like outline in the rock. I don't ask how we'll get inside, expecting Aloy to know the secret. Sure enough, after touching her Focus and making determined movements in the air before the indentation, the solid structure sinks into rumbling ground, leaving a dark tunnel blowing warm air into our faces.

Although the display unsettles me I push forward, Aloy's assurances that it isn't too much farther falling on ears focused on the alien noises coming from ahead. Pale lights spark to life as we near them, the first set startling me. The deeper we go the less natural the cave feels. The sounds I hear resemble those I associate with machines only they're larger, more like constant thunder than subtle hums. Just before we enter a large chamber, huge ropes become visible, running along the ceiling and walls. The air around them feels charged, like how it feels after a lightening strike.

When Aloy tells me to set her down we are on a ledge above a steep drop. What lies beyond is hidden by a haze, although I think I can see huge objects moving within it. Only Aloy's utter comfort in the other-worldly place keeps me there.

“Where are we?” I ask her, giving our surroundings another scan.

“It's called a Cauldron. It's where machines are made.” Aloy's voice contains her usual self-assurance but when I look at her I can see vulnerability.

“Where machines are made,” I repeat, looking around again. This time awe mostly supersedes the fear. Billy was built in a place like this? The curious part of me wants to go exploring but my practical side dictates I finish setting up our new campsite.

Aloy arranges our belongings as I bring them inside. She looks exhausted yet says nothing about her condition until the supplies are settled. “I think I'll have a nap.”

Taking one of her hands to keep her with me for another moment, I whisper. “I'm going to free the Grazer.”

“Ok,” her response is gentle, those amber eyes somehow containing sympathy and understanding for my feelings alongside her tiredness.

Love for this incredible woman nearly overwhelms me and I stay until she is asleep, the warmth and filtered light of the Cauldron making a fire unnecessary. I make my way back down the tunnel, pressing a button on the wall at the structure's entrance. The door slides down and I step out to face the Grazer. Its blue eyes focus on me, somehow aware that this is a profound moment.

The fact that Aloy can call another one of these mounts any time she wants does not lesson my sadness at having to say goodbye. I've tried not to become attached but Billy has made me see all machines differently. Even this Grazer now means something to me. It might not be able to chirp along with my singing but I couldn't have helped Aloy without it.

This is why tears are in my eyes as I caress the machine's face one last time. “Thank you for your help. I... I wish you a long and happy life.” Can machines feel emotion? I can't be sure, but suppose that if they're fulfilling their purpose they at least know peace.

I lead the Grazer away from the entrance, instruct it to stay, then walk determinedly back to the Cauldron's entrance. My eyes are glued to the machine as the words to release it leave my lips. The Grazer's calm, blue lights flash red a couple of times before settling into the aggressive colour. Its relaxed stance becomes rigid as it watches me, unsure whether to charge or run. The machine settles on the latter option, quickly disappearing into the mountain crevices.

Stepping back inside the Cauldron, I shut the door and stand in the dimly lit darkness for several moments, letting the tears run silently down my face. I return to Aloy once the flow stems, unrolling my furs and leaning against the cool wall to watch the moving shadows through the mist. After some undefined amount of time one of the red-head's hands touches my leg, drawing me back from unhappy thoughts.

“Com' t'ed,” her sleepy voice slurs.

I find the request unreasonably adorable and once I'm in her arms quickly succumb to slumber. I sleep remarkably well considering the strange surroundings. My sleep is so solid that Aloy leaving the furs does not disturb me. Only the smell of cooking meat brings me to the waking world, stomach angrily reminding me how long it's been since my last meal.

“Hey, sleep well?” Aloy asks. She is seated by a small fire in a.... box. Deciding not to focus on the strangeness of that, I push out of our bed and slide closer.

“I did. How's your leg?” Despite my intention to not look desperate, I catch myself drooling over the succulent-looking rabbit.

“Good. Activity still tests it but it is also restless, like it wants me to move. I thought I'd be useful and catch us some breakfast.”

“You're not supposed to be moving too much,” I remind her, my hunger probably dulling the force behind my reprimand.

“I didn't move too much. I got to the entrance, sat until a rabbit came within arrow-shot then killed it,” her look of innocence is both infuriating and endearing.

“And how did you retrieve it?” I ask, watching as she pokes the meat.

“The arrow I shot it with had a piece of wire tied to the shaft so I could drag it back,” she states matter-of-factly, handing me a collection of nuts that I promptly shove in my mouth.

“Oh, so I'll be eating rabbit that's been dragged over the ground.”

Aloy's expression is becoming exasperated, although the amusement remains. “I ensured the flesh was not contaminated.”

“Of course you did,” I respond, giving her shoulder a nudge with mine. Now that I have food in my belly I am feeling much better. Our living situation has definitely improved and having Aloy around me, confident and happy, is guaranteed to keep me feeling optimistic.

“I bet you're wondering what this thing is,” she says, indicating the box.

“I'd decided just to go with it until I'm fed.”

She chuckles, shifting the object so I can better see the glowing interior. “It's an oven. It's powered by the sun and can store the energy for a period of time.”

“So, no wood?” I verify.

Aloy nods.

One of my hands reaches out, unconvinced that the contraption can rival fire. A few inches from its door I begin to feel a temperature difference. When Aloy opens the box a wave of heat and delicious smell envelops me. “Wow! You haven't always had this.”

“No. Now that we're in this Cauldron I can communicate more easily with the Gaia. This is a sort of 'welcome back' present.”

“Will... I get to meet her?” The prospect excites and frightens me. I've seen so many strange things since entering this place yet know I've barely scratched the surface. I'm more prepared to face it than I've ever been yet it's still terrifying. Once I enter the world of Aloy and Gaia's project I cannot return from it.

“In time. She's... overwhelming, even to me and I know a lot about her. I'll get you used to this place first then introduce you, if you still want to be involved.” Aloy's speaking hesitantly although what that hesitancy relates to I'm not sure.

“I appreciate you giving me the time I need to adjust to all this. I'm with you through whatever challenges you face for as long as you'll have me.”

My words affect her deeply. Aloy's bright eyes shine in the low light as her gaze rakes over me, weighing her next move. I can't help getting a little excited in the hopes that she may fulfill an ongoing fantasy of mine by kissing me. Instead, she leans over and embraces me. I decide to be thankful for what I get.

“Thank you, Teresa. I'm... honestly not sure how I survived without you.”

A shiver runs down my spine and I aggressively resist the urge to take a kiss from her. One sentence has stoked my simmering attraction into a roaring fire I can barely resist. _Perhaps it's becoming too difficult to keep my feelings in check,_ I think. I don't dwell on the sobering thought, going about my constitutional and gathering fresh water for us from the stream outside.

Aloy and I eat in the eerie place, our comfort with each other helping to combat the strangeness. As we're finishing she asks, “How did it go, with the Grazer?” her tone is soft, expression sympathetic.

There's still an ache in my chest from the event yet it is not as acute now. Although I have mixed feelings about this fact, I'm certain that its loss will not be as painful as Billy's. “Alright, it hurt more than I thought it would. I tried to keep some distance with it... tried not to get attached, but I did not really succeed.” Letting out a deep sigh, I clean our bowls and set aside the rags for washing. “It's amazing how attached we become even when we're trying not to.”

The atmosphere between us changes so suddenly I spin to look at Aloy, afraid that she may have passed out. I can't describe how I know that something has happened, just that I've become accustomed to how her moods feel and something about my final sentence has dramatically affected her.

“Aloy?” One of my hands hovers over then touches her shoulder.

She's frozen, eyes looking into nothingness until my hand makes contact. As she meets my gaze I determine that sorrow has been too much in her life of late. “Teresa... I've burdened you with so much – yet, there's something else.”

Shuffling closer, I put myself within easy reach without forcing contact. “If you consider what you share with me a burden then I'm happy to help you carry it.” Love is burning under my skin, aching to hold her against me and make her sadness go away. Instead, I give her my full attention.

Inscrutable energy flickers in Aloy's eyes, my skin tingling with anticipation. Her hands take mine and I inhale a large breath.

“Trusting has never been easy for me. Neither has the more.. romantic aspect of relationships.”

_Don't get excited,_ I tell myself, not that it helps.

“When Gaia and I shut down the project, after it'd been compromised, I traveled to Meridian with a close friend of mine. He'd been involved in the defenses during the project's operation. He'd also connected me to Sun King Avad, another ally who was – is a key supporter of Gaia.

I stayed with this friend in Meridian. I was sad and listless and his affection made it easier to face each day.” She pauses, looks away from me, then meets my gaze once more.

“I'm not certain I loved him, I was feeling so many emotions then, but I loved being with him. The attention he lavished on me was what I craved. I let myself believe I could be content with a small life. Most people are. Our time together was good – but I still felt empty. I needed to get back into the wilds, I needed to move about and connect with the world outside the Sundom.

Doing so hurt my friend. He wanted us to settle down together. He let me go, said that he didn't want me to resent him if he forced me to stay. He could have then, he could have used guilt to tie me there, but he didn't. It made me feel worse. He'd been good to me yet I'd needed more. I went once more into the wilds.” Aloy takes a breath, the barest of trembles interrupting her determined voice.

“I was drawn back to Gaia and we just talked, like we'd done between planning sessions during the project's operations. I told her everything and, because she knows more than any human, she deduced from my explanations that I... well,” Aloy falters.

She is biting her lower lip, pain and despair marring her face. My hands grip hers more fiercely, hoping that the action will bring her back from the disturbing memories. I have a hunch about what Gaia deduced. Although Aloy's been vague I know she had a physical relationship with this male friend. I even suspect I know his identity, my own memories of the Vanguard Captain in the outpost still vivid. These insights do not make what Aloy says any easier to hear.

“I... Gaia told me... then showed me, that I was with child. Oh Teresa,” Aloy's whole body is shaking, her eyes locked on mine. “I was so afraid – why had I been so careless? How could I raise a child? I didn't want to settle down – I was overwhelmed. I had a job to do and my life is too dangerous for children.”

I nod, tears in my eyes, my heart constricting unpleasantly. Aloy's grief is unleashing my own yet I need to remain strong for her. Deep breathes become my lifeline as I maintain our shared gaze.

“I fled from Gaia, from everyone, and became focused on hunting. Anger at my circumstances, those who'd brought me here, the world, consumed me. I slew machines and animals alike, regardless of whether I needed their resources. I... became a monster. I... I think.... well, it doesn't matter now.” Aloy's body suddenly stills and the feeling in her eyes changes, shifts from grief to regret.

“I was badly injured while fighting a Behemoth. A small group of traders found me, took me to a village physician. I became well but the damage I'd sustained had...,” her eyes beg me not to make her say it.

I can't think anymore. My mind is a confusing muddle of emotions. I feel as though everything Aloy's described is playing out inside me and I'll explode from the intensity. Boldly, I lean forward into her lap, wrap my arms around her and press my face into her neck. “Don't say anymore,” I croak. It takes a moment to gather enough breath to complete my plea. “Please, don't hurt yourself anymore.”

Aloy's arms crush me to her and I wonder if I will break. I don't even mind, if this helps bring her some peace then I can live through a little pain. How this woman has shouldered so many burdens is beyond my understanding. Had all this happened to me I feel certain I would have died from a dozen dependencies by now.

She'd always had a reason to go on, perhaps that's what's preserved her. Yes, I know Aloy – despite her self-deprecation this woman has given more for others than anyone. She's paid for those actions, likely will continue to pay for them, yet doing so is being true to herself. She doesn't want to be held back or tied down. She needs support and love from someone who will understand those needs. Asking for people in this world to understand that is a tall order.

We fall backwards onto the hard floor, Aloy's grip loosening enough that I can breath freely and slide beside her. She doesn't let me go, the force of her hold a comfort to me. Even if she never loves me the way I love her, she's shared her deepest self with me, entrusted me with more than any other person. I tell myself I'm satisfied with that, I feel so blessed our relationship's come this far, yet can't help feeling sad about the loss of my fantasies. Everyone needs a little selfishness to survive and I allow myself to mourn the possibility of a romantic partnership with Aloy, woman caught between too many worlds.


	13. All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembering what's been lost and the promise of new beginnings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the change in rating for this story. This chapter is only suitable for adult audiences.  
> Also, if you're interested in hearing a song similar to the one Aloy and Teresa listen to in this chapter, you can check out 'The Heart of Africa' or 'Freedom Dance' by Hennie Bekker. 
> 
> Link to songs:  
> 'Freedom Dance' by Hennie Bekker:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfR-NF4idf0&list=PLsIh_VBxa-M63Uc1QkSQ4wBVNtK1BKvaP&index=2  
> 'The Heart of Africa' by Hennie Bekker: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2UzG5VbddLw&list=PLsIh_VBxa-M63Uc1QkSQ4wBVNtK1BKvaP&index=4

We lay in each other's arms for the remainder of the day. Before meeting Aloy I hadn't realised how many secrets a person could possess. Secrets had been part of her life since birth, some deepening over the years as others were added. The revelation about her relationship with the Vanguard Captain (although she never named the man) and resulting loss of a child was her final and most closely kept. I would learn details about Gaia's project as I needed to. What mattered most was Aloy's well-being and I was now in a position to truly support her.

I'd had relationships before, short-lived affairs of high emotion and fleeting feelings, so was not prepared for the weight of responsibility that comes with loving someone. As you grow closer to them the weight becomes heavier. It is made of knowledge about their life, mannerisms, beliefs and shared memories. I call it a weight for it is solid and ever-present yet it's not unpleasant. I wanted to carry the weight of Aloy's trust and secrets. 

The energy to do so was powered by my love for a woman who was always fighting, whether those battles were physical threats or internal struggles. Her ferocity of spirit incorporates the determination to succeed as well as incredible compassion for others. Her attractive features and unique character had initially drawn my interest. Aloy the warrior, helper, saviour, victim, user and friend is who I've fallen in love with.

We eat a light breakfast the next day then Aloy walks with me around the perimeter of our ledge overlooking the Cauldron. There are several ways down into the vast, shrouded area but we cannot traverse them until Aloy's leg is stronger. She helps me understand what each part is doing, although we can barely make out shapes let alone details.

I gather food for lunch and we finish off her rabbit, briefly touching once more on her feelings about losing the baby. She feels guilty for the relief of not having to raise a child and I try to help her see that there is nothing wrong with those feelings. The experience taught her about life and another aspect of herself. Having children is not for everyone. Ultimately, there is no point dwelling on the past. If she wants children in the future she'll face that decision at the appropriate time.

Hoping Aloy would develop romantic feelings for me had been easier before she'd admitted to a physical relationship with the Vanguard Captain. Meridian has a thriving community for those interested in pursuing same-sex partnerships, including those who enjoy the company of both men and women. The city's liberal view of sexuality is not, however, shared by all tribes. Even within the Carja, individuals have been persecuted for such activities. Aloy's worldly experience let me hold out hope, but the fact that she's had a romantic connection with a man reduced my chances.

I don't dwell on these thoughts while we interact, laughing, discussing and learning from each other. It is only while tucked up in her arms, wishing I could communicate my affection in a more direct way, that this contemplation invades my awareness.

Aloy gradually shows me more capabilities of her Focus, a device that still elicits conflicting emotions. The more familiar I become with it the more useful it becomes. The tiny metal object can identify plants from hundreds of paces away along with game and threats. It possesses a vast amount of information, how to build a sled only a small piece of that knowledge. One of the most profound things she shows me is revealed after our evening meal on the fourth day.

“Most of Old One culture has been lost to us,” Aloy states. “However, some of them were incorporated into Gaia's bank of data for use during the project. I want to share one of them with you.”

Excited to discover something about the people who'd come before us, I nod enthusiastically.

Aloy extracts what I've taken to calling 'the Amplifier', an item I saw her use once in the Banuk camp and several times here. It can transmit information from the Focus, making it available to multiple people at once. She adjusts the box, a quiet sound beginning to emanate from its sides. Her attention shifts to me as the sounds become louder, several noises coming and going.

“Are those... animals?” I ask, shock and wonder filling me. They sound like animal noises but none I've ever heard before.

“Yes. The creatures we have here are only a few of what existed alongside the Old Ones.” Aloy lays a hand reverently on the Amplifier, her eyes closing.

I follow her lead, trying to imagine what the animals I am hearing looked like. A long, melodic shriek, a mighty growl, dozens of sweet voices chattering together. Eventually I become aware of another sound entering the cacophony. It is less chaotic, forming a definite tune among the interacting voices.

“Is that... a flute?” I ask.

“I think so, or whatever their equivalent would have been.”

“They made music with animals?” The Old Ones' wonders never cease to amaze me. They'd had so many answers, so much power, yet neither had saved them.

“Gaia says the animals didn't consciously contribute to the music, it was woven around their voices.” Aloy shifts closer until our knees are touching. “Before the disaster some research into establishing cross-species communication was taking place, but it was not deemed as important as other projects.”

What could have been more important, or at least more interesting, than learning how to communicate with the animals who shared our world? It would be incredible – although, perhaps not being able to communicate with other creatures is for the best. I would have a lot more difficulty hunting boar if I could talk to it. 

More instruments join the song, drums and several others that sound similar yet different from ones I've heard in the city. The melody is one of celebration, the voices and instruments gradually rising into a burst of music. It feels like the complex choral pieces at Meridian festivals, praising the life-giving Sun for its beneficence.

When the otherworldly song fades into silence I realise I've leaned toward the Amplifier, listening intently for another haunting cry or final drum beat. Taking a deep breath, I reluctantly pull away from the device and meet Aloy's gaze. “Thank you. That was... magical.”

The red-head smiles thoughtfully, one of her hands settling on my shoulder. “It's incredible, I might be imagining it, but sometimes I think I can see those animals behind my eyes. They don't demand anything, they're just living. Helping Gaia bring them back should feel as much a burden as any other aspect of the project, yet it doesn't.” Aloy stops speaking, her eyes flickering with an emotion I can't identify. The hand on my shoulder lifts and a wave of pleasure passes over my skin as it caresses my cheek. “I... saw that same feeling in you just now...” she trails off. The hand on my face gently cups my jaw and I lean into the touch, eyes closing to better enjoy the caress.

Aloy retracts her hand almost immediately, as though realising she's done something wrong. An unhappy sound leaves my throat and my eyes open to look at her. The song's lingering influence has somehow transitioned to melancholy longing, my heart swelling with the feeling until I can't hide how much I want Aloy's touch. My gaze connects with hers and I think I see indecision in her eyes. Then she turns away, determinedly shifting her attention to routine tasks.

The moment passes and our dynamic resumes its friendly tone. Aloy tells me more about how she'd been working with Gaia to determine if the existing machines are achieving their terraforming and other functions, taking into consideration how humans have come to rely on hunting them. We watch the pale sun set at the Cauldron's entrance then tuck ourselves into our furs. Only Aloy's decision to sleep in her own furs rather than share with me is reminiscent of our earlier connection.

I don't know what wakes me, or how long I've slept before it does, but I come out of sleep to see the furs beside mine abandoned. Aloy is more autonomous now yet lacks full mobility so I'm immediately concerned about her. Thankfully, I spot her only a few feet away. 

She's perched on the ledge overlooking the vast Cauldron. Her long hair is loose and wild, trailing down her back in red waves. She's only wearing an under-tunic and pants, one leg tucked under her chin while the injured one hangs over the ledge. The warrior is far away in thought, her expression serious yet lacking tension. Despite the low light I can see faint circles under her eyes. I know that her leg bothers her when she lies still for too long but, in this case, thoughts seem to be what's keeping her from getting a good, long sleep.

Pulling myself from the furs, I crawl toward her. “Hey,” I whisper, sleep clinging to the corners of my vision and slurring my speech.

Aloy turns her head in my direction but not enough to face me. At least I know I won't startle her.

“Come te bed,” I say, now right behind her. I support my weight on one hand while the other reaches up to caress her back. What happens next feels like its happening to someone else.

Aloy seems to move faster than humanly possible, her whole body twisting toward me. My slow brain registers the movement, even the strange look in her eyes, but it's the sudden pressure against my lips that pushes my mind into wakefulness. My breath catches. The hand on Aloy's back is suddenly in her hair, holding Aloy's lips against mine.  
Her skin is hot, the mouth caressing mine trembling ever so slightly. My body is a riot of feeling in direct contrast with the silence of my mind. Leaning back, I drag her forward until she's lying on top of me. The desperation hinted at in her kiss begins to take over as I accept her advance. She's breathing heavily, her tongue parting my lips to deepen our kiss. My other hand is gripping her hip, fisted in her clothes.

“Teresa,” she pants against my ear. How I hear it over my racing heart I don't know.

“Aloy,” I reply, the sound airy and pleading.

Her mouth is suddenly on my neck and a guttural noise passes my lips. Weeks of contained desire are rising to the surface, demanding I surrender to Aloy's attentions. I might be dreaming but that's no reason to over think what's happening. The hand on Aloy's hip tugs her tunic up. I gasp when it makes contact with the bare skin of her waist.

Aloy sighs against my neck, her own hands finding ways under my clothing. The sensations are overwhelming: fingers scraping down the inside of my left arm, tongue pressing into my collarbone, more fingers splayed over my stomach, Aloy's body solid and searing even with clothing between us.

Everywhere Aloy touches explodes with pleasure, fanning an ache in my core that's gone unsated far too long. I try to keep pace with her touches but she doesn't allow me much movement. The best I can do is press insistent fingers under her tunic, grunts of frustration mixed with happy moans escaping me.

Straightening suddenly, Aloy looks down at me and I blink up at her. My vision is blurry yet I can somehow see the details of her expression. She's looking at me expectantly, curiously, cautiously but, overall, and this realisation causes a fresh wave of heat to rush down my body, hungrily. Aloy's hands grip the ends of her tunic, hesitate, then, when I nod, pull the garment up.

My brain freezes when I see her bare upper body. Arousal, amazement and wonder render me an idiot, unable to speak or move, only gaze at Aloy, her breasts gleaming in the pale light. Finally, I manage to reach out, one hand reverently cupping the soft, full flesh. Her resulting noise has me sitting up and trapping her mouth in a ravenous kiss.

One of us – I think Aloy – removes my tunic and the feeling of our bare skin colliding threatens to tip me over the edge. I'd never imagined how invigorating and intense simply touching someone could be. Every connection between our nipples sends shots of desire to my loins.

Aloy pushes me back against the cool floor and her marvelous, evil mouth begins an assault on my sensitive tips, rolling them in her tongue and applying gentle pressure with her teeth. My eyes roll back in my head, a broken version of her name leaving my lips. One hand is back in Aloy's hair, torn between yanking her away from my chest and holding her there. My other hand worms between our bodies and I'm immeasurably pleased when she groans against my skin.

I'm only allowed to tease her breast this way for a short time. My red-headed seductress pulls away with a low growl, supports her weight carefully on her good leg, and removes my pants remarkably efficiently. I might have made some teasing remark about her experience in this area but am capable of nothing so coherent. The best I can do is whimper, “Oh yes, Aloy, please,” when her strong fingers trace their way over my hips, the planes of my thighs then curve up and touch my burning core.

Her hot, wet fingers moving against my most intimate place cause my back to arch into her, each stroke winding the tension inside me. I know the rush that comes with such intimacy yet have never been so overcome by its build-up. My already primed body is melting with heat, Aloy's fingers alternating being determined and teasing strokes. She gives into the insistent tug of a hand in her hair, rising to kiss me. I no longer have any concept of a world beyond our mouths and her fingers. She smells, looks, tastes and feels so good that my entire perception has narrowed to include only one being: Aloy.

Her attempts to prolong my pleasure cannot change the fact that I've been primed for so long. Aloy's rough fingers stroke me again and I'm suddenly peaking, catching her lower lip between my teeth as waves of euphoria overtake my mind. All thought leaves me, the rolling sensations of pleasure cleansing every concern, ache, doubt and fear. Aloy's lips slips from between my teeth and I'm crying out against her, our breath filling my light-headed awareness.

“Oh... Aloy.” Her name issues from me in a tone filled with wonder, my chest heaving.

“Was that ok?” Aloy's voice is shy, the words vibrating against my neck. The hand between my legs moves up, caressing my stomach and coming to rest beneath my left breast.

“O....k?” The ability to feel emotions beyond pleasurable contentment is gradually returning, her words eliciting confused shock. “Blazes, that was... oh Aloy,” I press her harder against me although there's really no way we can get any closer. “You're amazing. That was amazing. I... have no words to describe how... amazing.”

Aloy's laugh, a sound like melted chocolate, deepens the love in my heart. “Oh, Teresa,” the words whisper against my lips before she's kissing me again. The contact is soft, contains none of the passion from our previous kisses, yet makes me feel whole in a way I cannot explain.

I consider not broaching the subject of what these actions mean for our friendship. In the Banuk camp Aloy'd told me she didn't get involved with people, especially those she wanted to include in Gaia's project. The fact that I'm lying naked beneath her, body tingling from mind-blowing pleasure, definitely suggests she's decided to change our dynamic. I am also afraid to admit my feelings for her. What if she links me to her experiences with the Vanguard Captain and no longer wants me around?

If I don't say anything, will she consider what's happened a fling and break it off as soon as we're among other people? All of this passes through my mind at the speed of mud flowing downhill. Aloy settles at my side, her healing leg propped over mine. I can feel her watching me yet she remains silent. Finally, I throw caution away and decide to be honest with her. “May I ask... what changed your mind? About us?” My voice is quiet, the background hum of machinery and my companion's breathing its only competition.

Sitting up, Aloy's gaze meets mine, the depth of feeling in her clear eyes leaving no doubt about her sincerity. “A short time ago I was wandering the Meridian Village marketplace. My supply of Twilight Nightshade was getting low and I wanted to restock before heading back into the wilds. My usual vendor wasn't present so I sought out another source, one whose profile was low enough to prevent news of my purchases traveling to the Vanguard yet reputable. A collection of prettily arranged herbs drew me to one stall in particular and, as I approached the stall, a voice caught my attention.

I'd heard many people sing in the market yet there was a... depth to this voice that drew me closer. I'd never heard the song before and the haunting words spoke to me. The song's source was a woman, black hair cut short and secured with a bright red bandanna. She was sorting herbs at the back of the stall and I wondered if I should disturb her. Deciding I had to know the song's origin, I spoke.

When she turned to face me I realised she was younger than I'd first thought, sturdily built with darkly tanned skin. Her eyes were incredibly bright. Blue, like clear wat-, no, like the calm light of a machine at home in its space. I soon forgot the feeling I'd had upon first hearing that song, losing myself in the pursuit of quests and escape from memory, but you have carried it with you. The kindness, understanding and... the love you've shown me is more than I thought I deserved. 

You've given to me since we met. Even when you thought you were being selfish you were helping me. I know many people who would die for me; that's loyalty to a cause. I understand that loyalty. Your loyalty is deeper than that – you'd give everything to save me. Save me... like Rost did.”

I am trapped in Aloy's eyes, ensnared by the roiling emotions visible there even as hope threatens to burst out of my chest. One of her hands threads itself through my hair and then I see it, the same softness I feel when I can look at her unguarded.

“A seed was planted the day you drew me to your stall,” Aloy continues, her face inches from mine. “Your dedication helped it grow, raising me up, little by little, towards the Sun. When my withdrawal ended I felt like myself again and that's when I started to let myself love you. I was afraid to give in, afraid of being rejected or hurt if it turned out your attraction was no deeper than physical interest. But how can someone give as much as you have when... when they're not-.”

“I love you Aloy,” my words render her mute, her eyes lighting with a fire that causes fresh excitement to course through my limbs. “I love you with all my heart.”

The world shatters around us as we melt into each other, limbs and minds mixing with the freedom of shared passion. How could a single encounter most would consider inconsequential end in this? I have no answer, but praise the Sun and the Great Mother for life's unpredictable chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! It's been a long time coming but Aloy and Teresa have now come to terms with and expressed their feelings for each other. I hope you all enjoyed the resulting passion. I'm still writing the final sections but suspect there's only one chapter and an epilogue left for this tale. As always, I love hearing the thoughts of my wonderful readers! :)


	14. Being a Couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa and Aloy navigate their new dynamic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit material to follow. Thank you again to everyone who continues supporting this story! :)
> 
> The song for this chapter is 'A New Day Has Come' by Celine Dion.   
> Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6vr8LoGNDA&index=3&list=PLsIh_VBxa-M63Uc1QkSQ4wBVNtK1BKvaP

Glorious weightlessness greets my slow return to waking. As more of my senses stir I feel a familiar body pressed into me. My mind's muddled contentment is explained by recollections of the night before. These memories bring joy into my awareness.

Shifting, I glance at the still sleeping Aloy, her flaming hair a mass of tangled tresses. Both of her arms are around me, their hold possessive even in slumber. I can feel one leg under mine and another draped over. The woman's naked flesh gleams, scars and marks only adding to her beauty.

Our lovemaking had been hurried and desperate, the greedy consumption of air by someone who's been drowning. I fully intend our next time to be slow. I want to learn Aloy's body like I've learned her mind. Now that I am free to love her I will do so with the energy of my entire being.

_She loves me._ The knowledge is still fragile. I'm hesitant to think too much about it. The possibility has been a fantasy for so long I may begin to doubt its reality. Aloy already had my heart, now I'm free to give her all of me. From now on we'll face each challenge together.

My thoughts seem to reach Aloy. A low sigh issues through her chapped lips, the hand over my stomach beginning to trace patterns. Her eyelashes flutter then part and I'm looking into golden orbs gradually focusing on me. Aloy smiles in a knowing way and I realise there's a goofy grin on my face.

“Be careful,” I say, my voice low and raspy, “we know who'll win a tickle fight.”

An exasperated yet affectionate sound leaves her as she hesitantly leans up. I meet her kiss halfway. “Good morning to you too.”

She sounds as tired as I feel, although I also feel like I've slept for years. The fatigue differs from regular physical exhaustion. It's deeper, reaching places in me I haven't felt before. Paradoxically, there's also a humming energy beneath my skin. No matter how tired I am, I know I could make love to Aloy a hundred times more.

“Hungry?” she inquires, eyes sliding down my body.

Goosebumps rise on my skin as she looks me over. There's a trace of nervousness about being so exposed. The feeling is ridiculous given what we did all night but it's present. “Yes. We should eat to keep our strength up.”

Aloy's gaze meets mine, mischievousness evident in their depths and the quirk of her mouth. “If you're suggesting we partake in more 'exercise' then I'll hunt a dozen rabbits so we don't have to leave again for a few days.”

My laugh is loud and free. Pulling her closer, I snuggle into her neck, whispering “I love you.”

A breathless second passes and then I hear the same words in her lilting voice. What I'd thought happiness was is a pale specter of what I'm now feeling. Although my feet are planted on the ground I feel lighter than the clouds, every breath fresher, every moment more precious. The woman I love returns my feelings. I can think of nothing better.

We reluctantly extract ourselves from each other and perform life's mundane routines. The stream outside is too cold to linger in but we wash our bodies and clothes, unable to keep our eyes off one another. Tasks that we would have split up to do become shared. This doesn't lead to a successful hunt so we eat what I gather in the wilds nearby. Aloy and I walk the Cauldron's ridges again, noting the stability she's regaining in her healing leg. Aloy does not once touch her Focus.

Finally, knowing that meat is what we need to remain resilient, I go farther afield, every step away from Aloy increasing the ache inside me. Despite my restlessness I manage to secure a young boar. It's presence this far north surprises me but concern myself with the thought barely a moment. It will keep us fed for a couple of days. It's almost nightfall when I open the concealed doorway.

As the strange warm air hits my face a shiver passes over my skin. There's no reason I should suddenly feel like something has changed about the place. I enter the tunnel with its strange lights and low hum as I have a dozen other times yet I know something is different. Picking up speed, worry choking me, I burst into the larger chamber. A rush of relief fills me when I see Aloy sitting calmly against the wall in our campsite, idly playing with her Focus and the Amplifier.

Although I want to run to her I maintain a normal walk, feeling silly for the near panic of earlier. Aloy looks up, a smile of pure joy lighting her features. Love consumes me and I collapse into her waiting arms, boar forgotten.

“I missed you,” I say, nibbling her ear.

Aloy chuckles, shifting to take more of me into her lap. “You've only been gone a couple of hours.” Her fingers are running through my hair, soothing away all concerns.

“I know, but it was too long.” I want to stay there forever. Breathe in her scent, listen to her heartbeat, feel the marks on her skin. It's dangerous how quickly Aloy has become my whole world.

“I agree.” She gently tilts my head and we share a leisurely kiss, tracing each other's mouths. Familiarity and confidence make the act deep, as though the way our tongues curl around one another is directly touching my spirit. I'm becoming a new Teresa with every kiss.

Heat is pooling in my belly when Aloy reluctantly pulls away. My noise of displeasure causes her to chuckle. “Sorry, Trouble-Seeker,” she places a kiss on my nose. “There's something I have to tell you first.”

“Oh?” Her tone indicates the matter is serious but not in a heavy way. Sitting back on my heels, I give her enough space to collect her thoughts.

“You know I have an easier time contacting Gaia here?”

I nod.

“Well she... I was so excited about what has happened between us that I had to tell her,” Aloy looks at me sheepishly, as though she's afraid I'll be angry.

“Aloy,” I place one hand against her cheek, “I'm flattered you wanted to tell Gaia about us. I know how important she is to you.”

The red-head's soft smile makes my insides melt. “Well, she... she'd like to meet you.”

I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. I've heard so much about Gaia, the deity-like machine responsible for healing this world. Of late I've become used to Aloy talking about her like she's a long time friend, or affectionate relative. These discussions made it possible to forget my initial awe. Now that Aloy has suggested I actually meet this person-machine, anxiety washes over me. Meeting the parents of one's lover is stressful enough. When their guardian is capable of restoring like itself... well that takes the pressure to a whole new level.

“What's the worst that could happen?” I joke, a nervous laugh escaping me. “If she doesn't like me she can make me into a Watcher.” 

Shaking her head, Aloy playfully ruffles my hair. “Only how I feel about you matters.” Her tone promises enjoyable activities and I allow myself to be pulled to her waiting mouth by the bandanna around my neck. My fear disappears into the moist heat of Aloy, all my attention absorbed in our intimacy. 

I've given up on the boar and am pushing my hands under her clothes when she grasps them, the gesture obviously reluctant. 

“We... should eat,” Aloy pants, her face bright despite the serious expression she's trying to assume. 

She's right of course but I pepper her face and neck with kisses before reluctantly withdrawing. “Fine.” I hope my eyes communicate the intention to finish what we've started once life-supporting activities have been completed. The blush that pints her cheeks a pretty pink indicates she's caught my hint. 

Aloy must understand how I'm feeling about meeting Gaia since she doesn't continue the conversation. Instead, we sit as close as possible while sections of the boar cook, talking about everything and nothing. As she braids my hair I wonder how this can have all come to pass. Sometimes I still feel like I'm dreaming, although I know that feeling is false. There's been so much drama since I left Meridian it's difficult to reconcile that existence with this one of peace, happiness and fulfillment. When Aloy's greasy fingers slide between my lips, feeding me a piece of juicy meat, I thank every conceivable deity for my 'trouble-seeking' trait. 

I find myself bringing up the subject of meeting Gaia as we're cuddled together, gazing down at the fathomless Cauldron below us. “How soon would we be able to meet her?” 

Aloy's cheek presses against my forehead, a strand of her hair tickling my nose. “It's possible for Gaia to project herself through the Subsystems but her... home is Gaia Prime.” 

“Is that...a ruin?” I can't identify why the name sounds familiar. Perhaps I heard it in Meridian. 

“Mostly,” her voice takes on a strange air. Aloy seems to be recalling something she's fond of yet doing so also makes her sad. “Rebuilding the project necessitated repairs to certain places there. Those are where Gaia is." 

“Is it far from here?” I ask. 

“Once I'm fully mobile again it should take us only a few weeks but the going will be rough.” 

“We'll set out when you're ready then,” my response is matter of fact, punctuated with a kiss to her knuckles. 

“Teresa,” Aloy's voice is a whisper beside me, somehow full of a dozen emotions. “How can I ever thank you?” 

Smiling to myself, I press closer to her. “Just keep loving me.” 

* 

Being Aloy's lover is both the same and completely different from being her friend. Our dynamic of playfulness mixed with serious discussion remain, although the playfulness now occupies more of that ratio. We certainly don't agree on everything. Our main divergence of opinion concerns Aloy's desire to push her recovery. I've been her caretaker and protector for long enough that I've become overprotective. I know she's a grown woman, my senior by several years, and capable of overcoming incredible odds, yet I struggle with the desire to mother her. 

The tension from this desire grows over the next few days as Aloy eagerly attempts to regain independence. The worst fight ends in her sleeping along the far wall and me pouting in frustration as I stare into the swirling mist. When I manage to calm down enough to critically analyse my reaction I come to the displeasing conclusion that I need to let her do what she feels is right. Aloy doesn't deserve someone who will hold her back. I need to support her, even though I may not always agree with her. 

“There's nothing wrong with stating my opinion,” I say to myself, “I can't become an extension of her but nor should I trap her. Aloys escapes shackles.” The realisation does not make me happy but I make peace with it and reluctantly seek her out the next morning to discuss the situation. 

“Hey,” I start, holding out a bunch of sweet-smelling herbs. 

“Hi.” She's still miffed at me, I can tell by the lines around her mouth, but she's speaking to me so that's a good start. 

“I'm sorry about yesterday. I'm... I'm still trying to find balance here. It's difficult for me to watch you pushing yourself. I want to keep you safe and close but I know that's wrong. You're an amazing woman who has every right to pursue her goals, no matter how many Sawtooths, Glinthawks or... Thunderjaws you face.” I'm standing a couple of feet away from her as she performs her daily stretches, unable to ignore how beautiful she is or how much I want to touch her cascading hair. 

_Get a grip,_ I tell myself, amused by my fixation on the red-head. 

“Loving someone means you want to protect them but I know – knew before we became lovers how independent and capable you are. That's one of the hundred reasons I love you. I can't promise I'm not going to get clingy and unreasonable but I'll do my best to support you no matter my opinion.” 

“Always tell me the truth,” Aloy demands suddenly. Her gaze ensnares mine and before I've realised I'm moving I'm in her arms, the rightness of being there bringing tears to my eyes. “I don't want you to go along with whatever I say or do,” she says, the strength in her voice familiar and comforting. “I love you, Teresa. That includes your caring, overprotective tendencies. There will be battles I need to fight, dangerous journeys I'll need to take, but I also need you.” 

She inhales against my hair, her arms like vices around me. “I'll try to not get so defensive and see your points,” Aloy whispers. “We're stronger together than apart.” 

“I didn't know you were a poet,” there's a smile in my voice. I'm relieved she's not angry at me anymore and understands where I' coming from. Perhaps we can make this last. 

She laughs, tilting my head up for a thought-dissolving kiss. We've only been physically separated for one night but my body seems convinced it's been years. I drop the herbs in my hands and pin Aloy's arms to her sides. She sits back against the wall, surrendering. Her easy acceptance of my dominance fans the fire inside me, every noise of pleasure I hear making me further determined to overwhelm my lover with sensation. 

I make love to her neck as though it's the first time, my tongue tracing a scar, the throbbing beat of her pulse, then the skin pulled tight along her collar bone. There's a particular place to the left of her shoulder blade which drives her particularly crazy. When I linger there she squirms, half-heartedly fighting me. 

Chuckling against her hot skin, my hands force up her tunic and reveal her full breasts. Aloy's nipples are already hard, drawing me to them despite my intention to tease her a bit longer. My lover's noises, torn between moans of happiness and frustration, get louder as I remain perched in her lap, holding her arms captive and assaulting her sensitive tips. A sheen of sweat is spreading over me from the heat between us. It makes me want to strip but I can't risk losing my position of power. 

Shifting, I settle one knee against Aloy's core and am pleasantly surprised when she instinctively grinds against it. My fingers trail down her sides, fanning out along her stomach. My mouth follows until I'm licking along the muscles above her waist, my free hand gripping her buttocks possessively. 

Aloy's now begging me to touch her. I know exactly where she wants to be touched and my own desire is beginning to overthrow patience. I her tunic up over her head, trapping her arms in the material. Now with both my hands available, I loosen her pants and force them down past her knees. The smell of Aloy's arousal fuels my increasingly desperate movements. Guiding her good leg into a bent position, I lower myself and bury my face in Aloy's heady moisture, one hand gently separating the folds of sensitive skin while my other continues teasing her nipples. 

“Teresa, oh, Teresa,” her voice is intoxicating. The way my name rolls off her tongue, clothed in desire and affection, makes me want to stay here forever, drawing out her pleasure until no other feelings exist. 

I hum approval against her most private place. My general actions become more intentional, seeking out the spot that will carry her into joyful oblivion. Two of my fingers slide inside her, pressing up as I move them slowly in and out. I'm vaguely aware of Aloy's toes curling on the edge of my awareness. Her moans are getting louder, urging me to increase my pace. 

No matter what happens with Gaia, my place in the project or how I may feel about letting Aloy be her heroic self, I will face all of it gladly to remain with her. If I can be the one who holds her when she's sad, heals her when she's hurt, feeds her when she's hungry and pleases her until her cares vanish then I can learn to live with my fear for her safety. Aloy is the legacy of a bygone time and a child of the new world. Hers is a reality I will not always understand but I will strive to be what she needs. 

I hear the pitch of her voice change as she peaks, her body stilling as gratification washes over her. I ease Aloy down with gentle swirls of my tongue, pulling away from her core and working my way up her body until I'm nestled under her chin. 

Weakly, Aloy worms her arms out of her tunic and kicks off her pants. Soon her hands are against my bare skin, tracing teasing patterns along my chest. Her emotional state feels calm and whole. From the first moment I saw her I wished Aloy well. Selfish desire spurred me to follow her then concern for this amazing woman made me determined to heal her. I had no idea how much her healing would change me. 

Now we're more than the sum of two parts. We're an entity with different origins and minds who share a need for each other. Relationships take work and we understand it will not always be easy. I meet her eyes as her fingers wander lower and see the love I feel reflected back at me. It's a romantic notion but I can't help thinking that maybe our love can heal this world. 


	15. In the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa and Aloy go to GAIA Prime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this story occurs several years after HZD, imaging the events that take place before Teresa enters Aloy's life has been an interesting experience. This chapter is a bit shorter than usual but I wanted to keep posting on my regular schedule. I'm excited to see what you guys think of GAIA. Thank you for your continued support. :)

Coming into wakefulness enfolded in protective arms, residual bliss caressing the edges of my mind, is the only way I want to experience mornings. Blurry eyes look down at Aloy who's nestled into my neck. Smiling, I press a cheek to her head. This shift gives me a view across the dark Cauldron and four beams of light on the far side of our ledge. Four beams of blue light.

My heart is suddenly racing. “Aloy,” I say, shaking her gently.

She stirs, the urgency in my voice causing her to tense. I indicate the spot from which the light originates and she reaches for her Focus. All I can determine from this distance is that there are two machines standing in our space. Their active, blue lights tell me that much, but why they're here is a mystery.

Cautiously, the two of us roll apart and begin dressing. Aloy's attention is on her Focus and whatever it's showing her. My lover's mouth is a firm line of concentration with no clear indication of whether those machines are a threat. I can't help thinking that our days of isolation have come to an end.

I breath easier when she relaxes, turning to face me with a small smile. “Gaia sent them. She's wondering if we'd like some assistance getting to her.”

“I'm not sure undertaking the journey is a good idea – not until you've regained full mobility,” I know the words will dampen her enthusiasm and remind her of previous disagreements but someone has to be the voice of reason.

Aloy is obviously still involved in whatever her Focus is telling her because she sounds distracted when she responds. “She.... apparently Gaia's been busy in my absence.” She sounds torn about this fact. Helping Gaia is such a large part of her identity I can understand how learning she's not integral to all operations would elicit conflicting emotions.

“Gaia's been creating underground access tunnels between herself and the projects functioning systems. One leads from here to Gaia Prime.”

Traveling underground... sounds safe enough, except that I really have no idea what exists in these 'systems'.

“She says... Gaia wants us to come see her soon. She's provided two Striders for the journey.” Aloy's voice is conflicted, a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

Those feelings accurately sum up my reaction to her words. Safe passage to Gaia Prime silences most of my arguments for waiting until Aloy is fully healed. It also makes me realise how selfish I've been. Here I am, wanting to keep Aloy to myself when the world is at stake.

“It sounds like something serious is happening,” the words are quiet, one of my arms curling around her waist.

“It's not an emergency but... she wants to see us as soon as possible,” Aloy turns her gaze from the machines slowly walking toward us to me.

A happy ripple passes through my body as she steps closer, secure arms pressing me flush against her. The intimacy is natural now, proximity to Aloy eliciting the same contentment I once associated with coming home.

“I think we should go then,” I whisper. Aloy meets my kiss halfway then pulls back, her eyes searching mine.

“I wish we could stay like this a little longer.” Her husky tone somehow travels directly to my core. I smile, rocking her against me. “Wherever you go I'll follow. And don't worry, I will never be able to keep my hands off you.”

She laughs, runs an affectionate hand through my hair and then we begin to pack. We move determinedly but without rushing. I feel a bit better knowing Aloy will miss our isolation. Excitement is beginning to overtake my nervousness about making this trip. We're going to meet Gaia and help her restore the world. What does she look like – Aloy's said she's a machine that can create a human form. What does that look like? Despite Aloy's assurances I want Gaia to like me. I do not want to cause more strife in my lover's life and getting along with Gaia is one of the most important ways I can achieve this.

_This will be the third machine type I've ridden,_ I think as we approach the Striders. How they made it up the rough terrain to our ledge is answered when they lead us to a section of floor that begins moving once all four bodies are on top. Once the section connects with the floor below we follow the Striders deeper into the Cauldron. Our supplies are strapped to the machines' sides, Aloy staying close to me as she walks. Her leg is still stiff and weak but it won't be long before she can move confidently again. The prospect makes her glow with happiness and I revel in that feeling.

As we pass through the mist hulking objects are revealed, some stationary, others moving. I don't recognise the structures, just the components which I've used to craft countless tools and weapons. Watchers patrol the space, their yellow eyes turning blue as we pass. The phenomenon is eerie, as though we're emitting an aura that calms them. Aloy's hand takes mine, squeezes, and we push forward.

There's no way to tell time in the vast chamber but we travel for a considerable stretch until arriving at a flat section of wall. Here the Striders stop, both their heads turning to face us. Pulling me forward with her, Aloy presses a hand to the surface. Rumbling in the floor below us prepares me for a section of wall to sink, revealing a dark tunnel from which cold air rushes out. The passage is narrow but with enough height for us to mount without hitting our heads.

After wrapping furs over our shoulders, I help Aloy climb onto the machine's back, unable to resist caressing her as I do so. There are now a thousand small gestures between us that fortify the feeling of contentment in my heart. This small touch strengthens my courage and I lead our group into the unknown.

The machinery noises fade until we're traveling in near silence. Only our mount's eyes light the path ahead. Despite my steeled nerves, dread collects in my stomach. I keep my weapons close at hand in case some threat should await us. Aloy eases the mood with sporadic conversation but she's concerned about the request we've received. Neither of us know what to expect from Gaia's message.

It feels as though it must be early evening when we arrive at a suitable place to camp. We've entered a slightly larger chamber crowded with mechanical parts. The Striders stand guard as Aloy and I sleep. Although we strip down to bare skin we don't make love, each too preoccupied with what awaits us. The comfort of proximity is enough to soothe us into restorative sleep.

It only takes half a day more to reach our destination. “What's that?” Becomes my main conversation starter. When we leave the tunnel a second time metal boxes and furniture become a common sight. Some of these are 'consoles' Aloy tells me, used to communicate over long distances and store information. Stronger versions of her Focus. Some emit soft glows through the debris and ice, powered by invisible forces. While not as frigid as the outdoors, it's cold enough for us to wear our thick outer layers. I find the clothing a familiar comfort among such alien devices.

People operated these things? Lived in this place? I don't doubt the truth but struggle to fathom how different their lives were from how ours are now. We arrive at another door that Aloy has to open then we're in a repaired section of the complex. Electrical humming is audible through the walls and the temperature is warm enough for us to dress down to two layers. More consoles are illuminated, a sense of activity filling the space.

Since we have not yet met any other people this change sends shivers up my spine. I'm hit with a feeling of insignificance. How can I... how can anyone help a system as advanced as this? I'm nothing more than an ant in a grand house, unable to fathom the wholeness because of my limited sight.

“We're getting close,” Aloy says suddenly.

She looks pensive. Another moment passes and we enter a large room with more operating consoles. These are arranged in a half-moon shape, each one adorned with trinkets I suspect have personal significance. There's a cloth doll at the one farthest from the door on the right. A collection of metal bracelets sits stacked on another. Unlike most objects I've seen here, these are from my world, constructed from familiar materials with purposes I recognise. There are also furs, containers and clothes scattered haphazardly along the back wall where there's the most floor space. It looks like the place was occupied by people who left in a hurry and never came back.

As though reading my thoughts, Aloy says, “This is the Control Room. This is where my most trusted friends who were helping with the project stayed.”

I dismount then help her do the same. There's a wistful smile on my lover's face as she approaches one sleeping spot, staring down at a half-formed arrow.

“We didn't have any idea what we were doing... once we got the subsystems communicating those who were mechanically minded worked tirelessly for nearly a year until Gaia was finally restored.”

Aloy looks back at me, sorrow now visible in her eyes. “So many gave so much for me – for something we didn't really understand. Then Gaia came online and... she spoke to us.”

Stepping to her side, I touch Aloy's back, hoping to give her the strength she needs.

“It was... like seeing a ghost. A few people screamed, most were in awe. She could only communicate in fragments until the new power system was fully integrated. She seemed to be in shock, I don't know if that's possible – the rest of us certainly were. I was the only one who'd had any idea what to expect.

When she and I talked for the first time... when Gaia heard what I said and responded, I knew we'd done it. There was hope again for this world. I also felt... dared to believe that I could get to know one of my mothers.”

“Hearing your voice gave me hope, Aloy.”

I spin around, ropecaster ready in my hands. We are still the only people in the Control Room. Aloy's hand on my shoulder eases some of my fear but I do not lower the weapon.

“I'm sorry to startle you, Teresa. I did not wish to scare you by showing myself too soon.” The voice is odd, like someone speaking through a device that slightly distorts their speech. It's a woman's voice, one that is calm and soothing yet carries a weight I've sometimes heard when Aloy talks about Gaia's project.

“Are you Gaia?” I ask softly, somehow knowing she'll hear me.

“Yes. I am pleased to meet you, Teresa. It will be good to interact with the person who's become so important to Aloy.”

“Gaia,” Aloy says to the disembodied voice. “I think it would be best if we could see you.”

“As you wish.”

At the front of the chamber three interwoven circles begin to glow. A faint whirring sound follows and soon a faint purple light is rising from the floor.

“Don't be alarmed,” Aloy tells me. Although every one of my nerves is on edge I let go of the ropecaster and take her offered hand. We step forward, moving around the consoles and abandoned relics. A woman materialises before us, her figure insubstantial like a reflection in water. 

She appears middle-aged, perhaps at the same stage of life as my own mother. Gaia is wearing a robe of ever-shifting colour and patterns, natural shades of greens, blues, yellows and reds dancing around each other. Only the purple hue around her body and her immaterial form indicate she's not human.

Her shimmering face takes on an inviting expression, lips parting to reveal white teeth in a friendly smile. “Hello, Teresa. My name is Gaia.”


	16. Stepping in Stride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teresa and Aloy resume GAIA's project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, dear readers. I thought there was going to be an epilogue for this story but then the epilogue decided to merge with this chapter. So this is the final installment of 'Looking into the Sun'. Thank you all for the fabulous feedback you've provided and taking the time to share this journey with me.
> 
> Teresa and Aloy have come a long way since that stall in Meridian. I hope you've enjoyed their story.
> 
> 1) I've created a playlist for this story. There isn't a song for every chapter but I decided to indicate where I was thinking of a particular song for a chapter. This chapter's song is 'Someday, One Day' by The Seekers. This is one of the songs sung around the bonfire. Link here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRt1DcrFlKg&index=5&list=PLsIh_VBxa-M63Uc1QkSQ4wBVNtK1BKvaP
> 
> 2) Finally, I want to thank Kitewalker and leogrl19 for their amazing feedback and support. Both are fabulous writers and I highly recommend their stories!
> 
> Kitewalker: Out of Cryo (http://archiveofourown.org/works/10996092)  
> leogrl19: Sunrise, Nightfall and Aurora (http://archiveofourown.org/users/leogrl19/pseuds/leogrl19/works?fandom_id=14804939)

“Hello, Teresa. My name is Gaia. I was tasked by Elisabet Sobek with restoring life on this planet after the Faro Plague. Aloy restored me following an anomaly that caused my subsystems to become autonomous, threatening the purpose of this project. Any friend of hers is welcome here.”

A gentle nudge to my side brought me from my daze. “It is an... honour to meet you, Gaia. Aloy has told me about you, about how important you are to the world and to her. Thank you for welcoming me.”

Gaia's image flashes as her expression adjusts. It is now one of thoughtful introspection mixed with polite interest. The change makes me blink, goosebumps rising across my skin. “I am grateful you could both come so promptly. There is a matter that must be addressed.”

“What is it, Gaia?” Aloy asks, concern and urgency evident in her voice.

“You recall when we sealed the access tunnels and overrode Administrator access?” Gaia inquires.

“I do.”

_Just go with it,_ I thought, attempting to look confident rather than perplexed.

“Doing so halted several of our calibration activities. I have been maintaining them in stasis while diverting excess energy to alternate development processes but soon these activities will need to be abandoned or rebooted. Given your importance to this effort I thought it best to seek your counsel.”

Since Gaia's attention is focused on Aloy I shift to look at my lover. I can almost see the thoughts flying through her head, weighing, sorting and calculating. I am relieved that she seems to understand what Gaia is talking about - a headache is forming behind my eyes from this experience. Feeling useless to Aloy was a new and wholly unpleasant sensation.

“What processes are these exactly?” Aloy's free hand is making passes through her hair. I squeeze the one still in mine and immediately the tense expression on her face softens.

_At least I'm good for something,_ I think, unreasonably pleased by her reaction.

“The most important are the biological reintegration processes. Introducing new organisms without full analysis of impacts is not recommended. Shutting down the processes will result in the organisms' deaths. I do not wish that to happen.”

Aloy nods her brows furrowed and stance. She will not shy away from a challenge. Anyone who gets in her way is a fool.

“What do we need to do?” She asks.

Gaia casts me a glance that has my nerves primed, then replies. “The processes we shut down after the breech need to resume. I need outside help to accomplish this task.”

“How many?” Aloy is not happy. I can feel the tension in her grip.

“We need the whole team back, Aloy. As many as we can get.” Gaia's tone and expression convey sympathy. At least she's aware of how difficult this situation is for Aloy.  
“You know what happened last time,” Aloy's voice is a hard whisper.

“I have bolstered security measures since the previous breech. Such attempts should now automatically block access. There's always going to be risk. After all, Elisabet and her team did not foresee the anomaly. This is a risk we must take.”

I'd understood little of the conversation between these two figures – one flesh and blood, the other sparkling lights. All I'd managed to gather was that Gaia needed our help to prevent one of her systems from shutting down. I couldn't even measure how out of my depth I was... yet here I was. I may not be able to calibrate or build machines but there was one thing I could do: support Aloy. That I'd become very good at.

“Aloy,” I say softly.

Her body instantly shifts toward me, affection and curiousity in her eyes.

“It sounds like we need to restart the project. You've told me what happened last time and I know you don't want anything else to go wrong. There will always be risk, but sometimes taking a risk changes the world for the better. That's what it did for me. I want to help with this. I don't really understand it, but we need to preserve this world.”

I did not expect her to laugh. The sound is free and hearty, banishing the seriousness that had settled over the scene. “Your name really does suit you.”

It takes me a few seconds to realise what she's referring to. When I do I chuckle, a blush painting my cheeks. “It's a well-earned title.”

“I feel as though I am missing a key piece of data,” Gaia states, her gaze looking between us.

I honestly believe Aloy's laugh is capable of correcting all that is wrong with the world. Gaia's response sends her into a near-hysterical fit, the sound clear and uplifting. When she finally manages to catch her breath both of us are sharing goofy grins. Gaia still looks puzzled but the hint of a smile is at the corners of her mouth.

“The Banuk, my father is from their Tribe, they get titles for certain achievements or character traits. The only one I've acquired thus far is 'Trouble-Seeker'. This is the title we're referring to.” My response comes so easily I am shocked to remember that the woman before me is not human. The realisation intensifies my headache.

“Based on the information I have gathered on your behaviour I feel confident in supporting that conclusion,” Gaia's hands extend toward us in a gesture encouraging us to step closer. “Now, back to the task at hand.”

Aloy moves forward and lifts her left hand. It meets Gaia's right in mid-air. “You're both right,” she states. “It's time to finish what we started.”

I am tempted to reach out and validate if this strange phenomenon has a physical presence but do not work up the courage. Instead, I watch as Aloy speaks a string of foreign words, Gaia closes her eyes in concentration and the lights on the consoles around us begin blinking. Distant machinery sounds grow louder as Gaia's fingers on the hand not connected to Aloy's trace patterns in the air, a string of light forming wherever they move.

Sensing my confusion, Aloy addresses me as soon as she's finished speaking the foreign words. “I've sent a message to those who were part of the project. So long as they still have their Focuses they'll receive the message.”

“What exactly did you say?” I ask.

Leaning forward, Aloy places a quick kiss on my lips then replies. “We created a code language to hide the meaning of our communications. I will teach it to you while we make a plan of action. The message was: This is Aloy, Lead Administrator for the Living Gaia project. Your services are needed once more to ensure successful integration of life-giving processes. Please report to your nearest rendezvous point and indicate receipt of this message.”

“How long will it take them to respond?” I've closed my eyes, the sound of her voice and warmth of her presence making the weight of her words easier to bear.

“That depends on how far away from a rendezvous point they are. I think we'll begin hearing from some in the next few minutes.”

Barely a second later a distorted voice speaks on our left side. “Lead Administrator Aloy? Are you there?”

My lover pulls away to face the console. The shimmering figure of a man is lit above it, his face and upper body concealed by armour. The outfit is a mix of Carja and Oseram styles.

“I'm here, General Rand. Thank you for responding so quickly.”

“Has something happened?” His voice is as fierce as his appearance. I've never heard of or seen this man before but instinctively know he is not someone to underestimate.

“Gaia's reintegration systems require assistance completing their tasks. I'm attempting to gather the other Administrators for this purpose.” She sounds different, so in control. Aloy the leader is someone I'd get to know as the project came back online. It is a role she'll never be comfortable with but she accepts the responsibility with determination and grace.

“I shall ensure the Vangaurd and Free Heap receive your summons.” General Rand states.

“Thank you, sir.”

His image disappears and then another one on the right side of the room flickers to life. This time a woman in dark purple robes and headdress addresses Aloy. “Little Huntress, it's been a while.” Her voice is low and hypnotic, calm yet I think I hear relief buried in its layers of meaning.

“Thank you for responding so quickly, Vanasha.” It is difficult to tell how Aloy is feeling. I have no doubt these encounters are stirring up unpleasant feelings but she is hiding all emotion behind a mask of duty.

“I have been waiting for this call – I was beginning to fear it would never come.” The woman's words convey sorrow. How had she and Aloy parted? Had she seen the depression into which Aloy was falling? Had Aloy denied her the chance to help just as she'd tried to do with me? I suspect this is true as I place a hand on Aloy's shaking back to steady her.

“The Living Gaia project is in need of us again,” Aloy proceeds. “The life reintegration system -.”

“I don't need to hear why, Little Huntress.” Vanasha's voice is firm yet... affectionate.

I briefly wonder if she has feelings for the woman at my side then decide I'll cross that bridge if it appears.

“I'll contact you with more details soon,” Aloy says softly.

“And then we'll talk.” The light blinked off immediately after Vanasha's response.

The woman vanishes and I take more of Aloy's weight as she recovers from an onslaught of emotion.

Calls come in throughout the remainder of the day. Most are formal acknowledgments of Aloy's summons but some are charged interactions where individuals demand more information or express concern for my lover. Apparently she didn't keep in touch with most of her inner circle after disbanding them. 

We even get a call from the Sun-King himself. Sun-King Avad and his new wife Elora appear genuine in their enthusiasm at receiving Aloy's message. Although they do not promise specific support, they suggest a gathering outside Meridian where she and any nearby Administrators can discuss next steps. After being assured that Avad's most trusted soldiers as well as the Vanguard will protect the assembly, Aloy agrees to it.

She is exhausted when we crawl into our sleeping furs that night. Barely a moment after she's settled against my chest Aloy is asleep, her breathing deep and even. My body resists the peaceful retreat of sleep. Thoughts chase each other through my head, recounting the day's events, matching up what Aloy's told me about the project to the individuals I've seen.

While not all of them are skilled with machines, most are significant in their fields or hold positions of importance. This is the start of completing Gaiai's purpose – restoring life to a world that belonged to people like, and not like, us. They will draw on old and new world knowledge to achieve this objective. Each has talent, connections and experience to offer. I have nothing. I am a lone woman with few skills suited to the goal they are working toward. Yes, I love Aloy with all my heart and she returns my feelings, but can I fit into this reality of hers? I find the possibility difficult to envision.

These dark thoughts are what pull me from Aloy,'s arms. Tucking furs around my naked body, I carefully walk to the front of the room. Gaia has created a map on a wall there showing the Cauldron and subsystem locations. Points of light indicate the movements of people in Aloy's Administrator network. She and Gaia looked at other maps together before I dragged her to bed but I hadn't really understood those.

Aloy's location is hidden from the other Administrators, a gift Gaia bestowed to help protect her, but I know we are in Gaia Prime. My eyes find the location and stare at it, trying and failing to comprehend what all of the information I've gathered up to now means for me. One finger rises of its own accord and touches the shimmering spot as I've seen Aloy do. I am only a little surprised when the map responds, enlarging the place I touched and giving more information.

_GAIA Prime, headquarters for the Horizon Zero Dawn project. Restored by Aloy, clone of Elisabet Sobeck, and Administrators from the tribes throughout the new world. Project renamed Living GAIA. Locked down upon discovery of system breech, leaving project incomplete._

“There are many things I do not know about being alive,” the voice is GAIA's but seems to be coming from the map rather than the platform where she appeared earlier. She is speaking quietly so I assume she intends her words for me and is trying not to wake Aloy. Instead of responding, I continue staring at the illuminated details before me.

“I have had many good teachers and some I could call friend,” GAIA proceeds. “My purpose was always to restore, bring back what humanity destroyed. My existence has been compilations of data and probability. Elisabet used stories from her own life to help me understand the importance of what I was doing. I wasn't just restoring the organisms, plants, animals and matter, that had been lost. I was giving life a chance to continue changing, building on itself, suffering and achieving. I was taught to be compassionate and the Hades subsystem was taught to be ruthless. Both are integral to life on this planet. Survival is harsh – baby birds are plucked from nests to feed baby foxes. Beauty exists beside cruelty.”

“Do you need something from me?” I finally ask, unable to prevent the frustration I feel at having my introspection interrupted by the figure complicating my life.

“I want you to know that I have some understanding of this world's complexity. If I may speak out of protocol, I suspect that your current state of distress is linked to my summons.”

_Should I answer her truthfully? What is the harm?_ I decide.

“Well, yes, it is. Before coming here I could offer Aloy something. I was of some use to her. Sure, I'm not the best fighter or healer, but at least I knew what plants we could eat and which would make poison for our arrows.

Here I have nothing to offer her – nothing to contribute to you, no usefulness.”

GAIA is silent for a while, making me wonder if I've angered her. The fact that I don't even have any facial cues to interpret isn't a concern. I am too absorbed in my sadness to care.

“Teresa, if I may, I would like to show you something.”

A small portion of the map changes to an image... a moving image. _Perhaps this is a 'video',_ I deduce, fascinated despite my low mood.

A first I don't recognise anyone moving around behind the consoles - _they're in this room_ then one of the Oseram builders Aloy spoke to earlier today appears, followed by Aloy herself. The sight shocks me so badly I move closer to the video, one hand reaching out to touch her. Only empty air meets my searching fingers. 

She looks younger and far less... put together than the woman with me now. Dark circles shadow her eyes, aggressive stress lines marring her face. Her hair is cut short. Its lack is what makes it possible for me to see how gaunt she is, armour and elegant robes otherwise obscuring her appearance. I am horrified. Who'd let her get like that? Why hadn't someone made her eat a decent meal or ensured she got the opportunity to have a solid night's sleep? Even her voice sounds wrong – like she hasn't had water in days.

“This was before we discovered some of the systems had been compromised. Aloy was giving everything to this project. The other Administrators tried to convince her she needed to take better care of herself but she didn't see what they did. Her sole concern was getting the project working again. My primary directive has always been Horizon Zero Dawn so I do everything in my power to support it. Despite this, even I attempted to convince Aloy that she need not do the same. Had the breech not occurred I doubt she would have lived another year.”

The disturbing video fades but is immediately replaced with another. This one I recognise, although it takes my shocked brain a while to determine whose perspective it is from. “This... you got this from Billy?” I finally say.

“Yes, I apologise for the intrusion. I kept an eye on Aloy however I could once she left. I could not trust her to tell me everything that was going on.”

The scene is innocent enough. It captures the occasion when I'd given the Banuk children rides on Billy. The Broadhead's attention is generally focused on me – seeing myself on this video produces an odd mix of feelings – but Billy occasionally looks at Aloy seated on the rocks above. The contrast between the woman in the Banuk camp and the one who'd been orchestrating the project in GAIA Prime is enormous. This Aloy looks calm, healthier and happy as she watches the proceedings below, her eyes focused on me.

“This is when I began to see how important you were to her,,” GAIA said as the video disappeared. “Hunting and traveling the wilds helped restore her physical body but her mind was still unsettled, searching. When she came to see me after leaving Meridian I hoped she might be ready to restart the project. She didn't want anything to do with it. Then she learned about the baby and once more retreated to the wilds.

It's unfair of me to ask so much from her yet I need to. When she left the second time I suspected she'd ever return.”

The map in front of me dims and I sense someone behind me. Sure enough, when I turn around GAIA is standing on the platform, her serious expression impenetrable.

“I wanted you to see me so you know I'm being sincere.” 

I take a step closer to her, no longer afraid of this machine who, in its own way, cares for Aloy.

“I don't know why no one was able to help her,” GAIA says, glancing at the sleeping woman behind her. “Aloy is strong but also vulnerable. She doesn't show weakness and has limitless compassion. Something about you prompted her to take a chance, give the seed you'd planted by forcing your way into her life a chance to grow. When she tried to stifle it you remained firm and supportive. You let her be who she is but did things that were for her benefit. I'm not sure she even realised they were most of time.

She came to trust you and the plant began to flower, opening itself to the world. She'd been searching since I met her and she found what she needed with you – I've heard it called love but know of love strictly as chemical reactions. What you've given Aloy is more than physical attraction or the drive to reproduce. You've given her a reason to live, a reason to be happy, a reason to fight for herself.”

GAIA's eyes meet mine, a feeling of otherworldly connection washing over me. “Teresa. You are the most important person to this project. Without you there'd be no Aloy to carry this mission. You are her reason for being, just as the promise of life is mine. I would be nothing without that purpose. The data I've collected indicates that you feel the same way Aloy does. If this is so then you need not concern yourself with what you don't know. Your part in this can go beyond Aloy but know that even if it never does that's enough.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

If you've never met GAIA I can't make you understand the confidence she inspires. When she tells you something you know she's used all the tools at her disposal to reach the conclusion. That knowledge convinces you that what she says is the truth. This occasion was the first time I felt the weight of one of her deductions and the strength of its conviction settled my distraught nerves. I would never wholly feel comfortable in the midst of GAIA's project as it expanded over the years but I never again doubted my right to be at Aloy's side as she helped restore the operations.

On particularly hectic days I would look at my red-headed lover and compare this woman to the one I'd seen in GAIA's video. I'm happy to report that my Aloy never looked like that one. Cranky, yes. Short of sleep? Occasionally. But more often than not I could bring a smile to her face and urge a sigh of pleasure past her lips. When I had bad days she understood and after a while things would be peaceful between us again.

It was my idea to begin hosting events where the people working on the Living GAIA project could bring their families to socialise and celebrate. These were held after achieving a milestone in the project and did wonders for morale.

The first one was held after a new batch of animals was released into the wild. Somehow, knowledge of my love for singing had become common knowledge so, shortly into the festivities, I found myself in the center of a group with instruments singing a collection of traditional Carja folk songs. Those became Oseram drinking tunes then transitioned into Banuk spiritual ballads.

Tamed machines had gradually become a regular part of life for those working on Living GAIA. This is why no one thought anything of the cluster of Striders, Glinthawks, Broadheads and Scavengers congregating around our bonfire, their blue lights a calming backdrop to the energy of our songs. I wasn't the only one surprised when the gathered machines added their assorted voices to the pieces. Although the results were not always pleasing, all of us appreciated this illustration of how far we'd come.

Later, when GAIA, Aloy and I were alone, I asked if my world's mechanical mother had had anything to do with the phenomenon. GAIA merely smiled knowingly. Aloy then distracted me with a playful nip to my ear and I responded by kissing her. The question fled my mind as I basked in Aloy's presence, the love I felt radiating through my skin. Eventually, we went back to planning the next operational objectives, arms wrapped comfortably around each other as we looked forward to the challenge of another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoy this story, please consider leaving me a Ko-Fi: http://ko-fi.com/katarinaclaire

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy this story, please consider leaving me a Ko-Fi: http://ko-fi.com/katarinaclaire


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